Little brook, little brook,

You have such a happy look,

Such a very merry manner as you swerve and curve and crook;

And your ripples, one by one,

Reach each other's hands and run

Like laughing little children in the sun!

Little brook, sing to me,

Sing about a bumble-bee

That tumbled from a lily-bell and mumbled grumblingly

Because he wet the film

Of his wings and had to swim,

While the water bugs raced round and laughed at him.

Little brook, sing a song

Of a leaf that sailed along

Down the golden braided center of your current swift and strong,

And the dragon-fly that lit

On the tilting rim of it,

And sailed away, and wasn't scared a bit!

And sing how oft in glee

Came a truant boy like me

Who loved to lean and listen to your lilting melody,

Till the gurgle and refrain

Of your music in his brain

Caused a happiness as deep to him as pain!

Little brook, laugh and leap!

Do not let the dreamer weep;

Sing him all the songs of summer till he sink in softest sleep;

And then sing soft and low

Through his dreams of long ago,

Sing back to him the rest he used to know.