Miles and miles of here and there

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MILES and miles of here and there
  Our eager river forced its way,
Bent to be it knew not where.

It had no rest in delay;
  And for its haste it had no aim;
Wherefore go? But wherefore stay?

Here and there led both the same;
  By any winding it could make
Near its secret goal it came.

When it reached the crystal lake
  It knew its aim and found its rest;
All the miles were for love's sake.

Mid the blue hills of the west
Our river lies in the lake's breast.

© Augusta Davies Webster