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The fountains of sacred rivers flow upwards (i.e., everything is
turned topsy turvy.)
The fountains of sacred rivers flow upwards (i.e., everything is
turned topsy turvy.)
Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,
Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever.
Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,
Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through
it. The river was cut by the world's read more
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through
it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over
rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are
timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of
the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.
How sweet to move at summer's eve
By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen read more
How sweet to move at summer's eve
By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen to leave
The earth with crimson beam;
When islands that wandered far
Above his sea couch lie,
And here and there some gem-like star
Re-opes its sparkling eye.
He who does not know his way to the sea should take a river for
his guide.
[Fr., read more
He who does not know his way to the sea should take a river for
his guide.
[Fr., Les rivieres sont des chemins qui marchant et qui portent
ou l'on veut aller.]
Yet I will look upon thy face again,
My own romantic Bronx, and it will be
A read more
Yet I will look upon thy face again,
My own romantic Bronx, and it will be
A face more pleasant than the face of men.
Thy waves are old companions, I shall see
A well remembered form in each old tree
And hear a voice long loved in thy wild minstrelsy.
Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, read more
Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence
Becomes a benefaction to the towns
They visit, wandering silently among them,
Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.
"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle read more
"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
Across the sands o' Dee;"
The western wind was wild and dank wi' foam
And all alone went she.
Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those.
The bursting tears read more
Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those.
The bursting tears my heart declare;
Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr.