  Said the boy to the brook that was rippling away, "Oh, little brook, pretty brook, will you not stay? Oh, stay with me, play with me, all the day long, And sing in my ears your sweet murmuring song." Said the brook to the boy as it hurried away, "And is't for my music you ask me to stay? I was silent until from the hillside I gushed; Should I pause for an instant, my song would be hushed." Said the boy to the wind that was fluttering past, "Oh, little wind, pretty wind, whither so fast? Oh, stay with me, play with me, fan my hot brow, And ever breathe softly and gently as now." Said the wind to the boy as it hurried away, "And is't for my coolness you ask me to stay? 'Tis only in flying you feel my cool breath; Should I pause for an instant, that instant were death." Said the boy to the day that was hurrying by, "Oh, little day, pretty day, why must you fly? Oh, stay with me, play with me, just as you are; Let no shadow of evening your noon-brightness mar." Said the day to the boy as it hurried away, "And is't for my brightness you ask me to stay? Know, the jewel of day would no longer seem bright, If it were not clasped round by the setting of night." |
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