Poem by William Watson

The River

I

As drones a bee with sultry hum
When all the world with heat lies dumb,
Thou dronest through the drowsèd lea,
To lose thyself and find the sea.

As fares the soul that threads the gloom
Toward an unseen goal of doom,
Thou farest forth all witlessly,
To lose thyself and find the sea.

II

My soul is such a stream as thou,
Lapsing along it heeds not how;
In one thing only unlike thee,—
Losing itself, it finds no sea.

Albeit I know a day shall come
When its dull waters will be dumb;
And then this river-soul of Me,
Losing itself, shall find the sea.

1. On Landor's “Hellenics”
2. Scentless Flow'rs I Bring Thee
3. In Laleham Churchyard
4. Mensis Lacrimarum
5. The Blind Summit

Ella Wilcox The River ("I am a river flowing from God’s sea")

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