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A Feast of Lanterns, by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1916], at

p. 47


Visit to the Cold Clear Spring

Ah! when the darkness blinds the orb of day
This cold clear spring chatters my grief away,
And, as the current whirls along,
She lilts a little wordless song;
This little wizard, clear and cold,
Echoes the thoughts I left untold,
And for music I have the sound
Of the tall pines surging round.

Visit to the White Stream Rapids

I crossed the White Stream at its slender source
When Dawn first cleft the tangle of the stars
And shook the darkness from her. And I saw,
Passing a while from the worn tracks of men,
Islands innumerable environèd
In Nature's colours gold and green. The sky
Laid the blue mirror of eternity
Upon the shining waters. One by one
The clouds sailed out to sea. My random thoughts
Went wandering where monsters silver-mailed
Flash down their native streams. I sang the songs
That swelled with noon and faltered with the dusk
And failed in the twilight. Then I sought the gleam
Of cottage eaves amid the moonlit fields.

Next: Spring Rhapsodies: I. Delight