11s.
1
How still is the river, and calm is its tide!
We scarcely discover its waters to glide;
O list you, how noiseless, though mighty it be;
O hark you, how voiceless it hastes to the sea.
2
How swift is the river, and bright is the gleam!
Its rays how they quiver through woods o’er the stream;
As onward ’tis sweeping so restless and free,
All racing and leaping its course to the sea.
3
O, beautiful river, thou seemest to say,
Thus, thus is it ever that life hastes away:
Though noisy or noiseless its waters may be,
Yet, still without pausing, they flow to the sea.
4
O, where are they taking, dear children, your soul,
Eternity truly for man is the goal,
But, O, will you find it of pleasure or pain,
A long everlasting of loss or of gain?
