The River Bed

On this hill by peace tenanted
Upon thy breast I lay my head,
As we watch the lonely riverbed.

There is gushing laughter
In the crystal water:
A smile in the rapids
For the panic each forbids.

A mirror for the trees around
With so delicate a sound:
Songs stirred in that luscious stream
Ornamented by loveliness, the willow, the gleam.

And its loneliness dressed
In that garb of sunlight’s rest
Reflects our hill’s green, high crest.

Sit we in love—the day grows faint
We watch Heaven’s artist paint
Such dyes as you hold poor me,
Though still alone my soul shall be.

And thy touch makes brave
My breast for so deep a grave
That I have so defined
And yearned so long to find
Held with thy roses, thorn-wrought, red
In that lonely river bed.