Father Ryan's Poems (77)

    A river went singing adown to the sea, A-singing ——low -singing ——And the dim rippling¹ river said softly to me, "I'm bringing, a-bringing —— While floating along —— A beautiful song To the shores that are white where the waves are so weary, To the beach that is burdened with wrecks² that are dreary³. A song sweet and calm As the peacefulest psalm⁴； And the shore that was sad Will be grateful and glad, And the weariest wave from its dreariest⁵ dream Will wake to the sound of the song of the stream；

    And the tempests shall cease And there shall be peace." From the fairest of fountains, And farthest of mountains, From the stillness of snow Came the stream in its flow.

    Down the slopes where the rocks are gray, Thro' the vales where the flowers are fair —— Where the sunlight flashed —— where the shadows lay Like stories that cloud a face of care, The river ran on —— and on —— and on —— Day and night, and night and day； Going and going, and never gone, Longing⁶ to flow to the "far away", Staying and staying, and never still； Going and staying, as if one will Said, "Beautiful river, go to the sea；" And another will whispered, "Stay with me" And the river made answer, soft and low —— "I go and stay" —— "I stay and go."

    But what is the song, I said, at last？ To the passing river that never passed； And a white, white wave whispered, "List to me, I'm a note in the song for the beautiful sea, —— A song whose grand accents no earth-din may sever⁷, And the river flows on in the same mystic key That blends in one chord the `forever and never'."