Fannie, thy soul is still & slow,
As a great river in its flow.
Neath cool green willows moving slow
Not knowing whither that would go
In doubtful shallows rippling slow
Eternal throbbings to and fro
Chosen thy channel where to flow
Heavens deeper shall meet thy deeps below,
Even twisted bays shall feel thy flow,
Even little violet-nooks shall know,
Varied, and soft, thine ebb and flow
Exhaustless, sweet, thy waves shall throw
Rich gifts to all who feel their flow.
