THE BROOK.
Reading edition
From a fountain In a mountain, Drops of water ran, Trickling through the grasses So our brook began. Slow it started; Soon it darted, Cool and clear and free, Rippling over pebbles, Hurrying to the sea.
Children straying Came a-playing On its pretty banks: Glad, our little brooklet Sparkled up its thanks. Blossoms floating, Mimic boating, Fishes darting past,— Swift and strong and happy, Widening very fast, Bubbling, singing, Rushing, ringing, Flecked with shade and sun, Soon our pretty brooklet To the sea has run.
ELLEN SOULE CARHART.
