brig allen


The Stream

From high in the hills, the water comes singing,
To join other streams together they're flowing,
Hither and thither the music is ringing,
And all of the time its volume is growing.

Gliding along, as it flows it is widening,
Meandering, bubbling fuming and spouting,
Sometimes narrowing cascading dividing,
Then roaring and pouring, fighting and shouting,

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