“ Press On.”
A Rivulet’s Song.
“ Just under an island, ’midst rushes and moss,1
I was born of a rock-spring, and dew ;2
I was shaded by trees, whose branches and leaves3
Ne’er suffered the sun to gaze through.4
“ I wandered around the steep brow of a hill,5
Where the daisies and violets fair6
Were shaking the mist from their wakening eyes,7
And pouring their breath on the air.8
“ Then I crept gently on, and I moistened the feet9
Of a shrub which enfolded a nest—10
The bird in return sang his merriest song,11
And showed me his feathery crest.12
“ How joyous I felt in the bright afternoon,13
When the sun, riding off in the west,14
Came out in red gold from behind the green trees15
And burnished my tremulous breast !16
“ My memory now can return to the time17
When the breeze murmured low plaintive tones,18
While I wasted the day in dancing away,19
Or playing with pebbles and stones.20
“It points to the hour when the rain pattered down,21
Oft resting awhile in the trees ;22
Then quickly descending it ruffled my calm,23
And whispered to me of the seas !24
“ Twas then the first wish found a home in my breast25
To increase as time hurries along ;26
’Twas then I first learned to lisp softly the words27
Which I now love so proudly—‘ Press on
!’28
“ I’ll make wider my bed, as onward I tread,29
A deep mighty river I’ll be—30
‘ Press on’ all the day will I sing on my way,31
Till I enter the far-spreading sea.”32
It ceased. A youth lingered beside its green edge33
Till the stars in its face brightly shone ;34
He hoped the sweet strain would re-echo again—35
But he just heard a murmur,—“ Press on
!”36