The Stream Of Life

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Oh silvery streamlet of the fields,
  That flowest full and free!
For thee the rains of spring return,
  The summer dews for thee;
And when thy latest blossoms die
  In autumn's chilly showers,
The winter fountains gush for thee,
  Till May brings back the flowers.

Oh Stream of Life! the violet springs
  But once beside thy bed;
But one brief summer, on thy path,
  The dews of heaven are shed.
Thy parent fountains shrink away,
  And close their crystal veins,
And where thy glittering current flowed
  The dust alone remains.

© William Cullen Bryant