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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.]
I love any discourse of rivers, and fish and fishing.
I love any discourse of rivers, and fish and fishing.
Now scantier limits the proud arch confine,
And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine;
A read more
Now scantier limits the proud arch confine,
And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine;
A small Euphrates thro' the piece is roll'd,
And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
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.
"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.
Then I saw the Congo, creeping through the black,
Cutting through the jungle with a golden track.
Then I saw the Congo, creeping through the black,
Cutting through the jungle with a golden track.
How bright the sunshine dances in its joy,
O'er the still flow of this majestic river!
How bright the sunshine dances in its joy,
O'er the still flow of this majestic river!
Rivers are roads that move and carry us whither we wish to go.
[Fr., Les rivieres sont des chemins read more
Rivers are roads that move and carry us whither we wish to go.
[Fr., Les rivieres sont des chemins qui marchant et qui portent
ou l'on veut aller.]
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.