Water

Water comes dashing,
Over the rocks.
From out of the stream,
It loudly talks.

It talks of cataracts,
And leaps so brave.
And of water tumbling,
In a colorful wave.

Of regions so wild,
Where stone is rough.
Where deep wash-outs,
Are not enough.

Where untamed water,
And a water-Fall.
Is a beautiful place,
For a bird to call.

Where rapid waters,
Fall on their knees.
And in their reproach,
Take off to the seas.


E.P. 1908 - 1989