Song of the Rill

A Naiad afloat in a pearly boat
Sang clearly, in many a liquid note, 
     This song of her twittering rill,
And her voice went out till an echoed shout
Came back, from the maples that girt her about,
     Like a blackbird's earliest trill.

"I am Queen of a sphere that is sweet, that is dear,
O, cool as the shadow, as sunshine clear, —
     The haunt of the bird and the bee;
The lilies delight to adorn it with white, 
The thrushes to sing me their gayest 'good night'
     Till the whippoorwill stuns me with glee.

"Young violets shed from the fringe of my bed
Faint odors as pure as the censer's flame fed 
     With gums in the temple of God;
And grasses that drink, leaning over my brink, 
Grow greener and richer, while shrivel and shrink
     The herbs of the midsummer sod.

“The Squirrel’s gay pranks are played on my banks,
For the beaker I proffer him these are his thanks
     That make me his debtor still;
My ripples will tittle & trill like a gitter
When Bobolink bubbles to mimic my twitter,
     All fresh from his bath in my rill.

“Sweet spearmint & fern from the brim of my urn
Lean over * sip of its notes in turn,
     And nod to the cresses below.
Through alders & brakes, when Southwind shakes
Their curtain, the Sunshine drops in flakes
     A marvel of golden snow!

"The lads and the lasses let loose from their classes
Leave books to the benches and dire through the grasses
     That border my beautiful pool,
And out of my reign, in the nerve and the brain
Sun-parched, come vigor and freshness again,
     And a bloom through the dust of the school.

“The farmer forsakes his tedders and rakes
And knelt at my basin, his fever he slakes,
     Deep-plunging his lips for a draught;
While maidens and boys, with a jubilant noise,
Chase under my maples their holiday joys,
     And drink where the fairies have quaffed.

“Man, maiden, or lad, are you weary or sad?
Where my cup overflows, rest, drink and be glad,
     In the gurgle and gush of my song;
Though ye capture no glance, with my music and dance,
Ye shall know by the freshness ye catch in my haunts
     It is June with me all summer long!”