SOUNDING above the warring of the years,
Over their stretch of toil and pain and fears,
Comes the well-loved refrain,
The ancient voice again.

Sweeter than when, beside the river's marge,
We lay and watched, like innocence at large,
The changeful waters flow,
Speaks this brave music now.

Tender as sunlight upon childhood's head,
Serene as moonlight upon childhood's bed,
Comes the remembered power
Of that long-vanished hour.

The river ran with merry voice and low,
The gentle ripples rippling far below,
Talked with no idle voice,
Though idling were their choice.

Now through the tumult and the pride of life,
Gentler, yet firmly soothing all its strife,
Nature draws near once more
And knocks at the world's door:

She walks within her wild harmonious maze,
Weaving her melodies from doubt and haze,
And leaves us freed from care
Like children standing there.