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Poem by Madison Julius Cawein


The Brook


To it the forest tells
The mystery that haunts its heart and folds
Its form in cogitation deep, that holds
The shadow of each myth that dwells
In nature be it Nymph or Fay or Faun
And whispering of them to the dales and dells,
It wanders on and on.

To it the heaven shows
The secret of its soul; true images
Of dreams that form its aspect; and with these
Reflected in its countenance it goes,
With pictures of the skies, the dusk and dawn,
Within its breast, as every blossom knows,
For them to gaze upon.

Through it the world-soul sends
Its heart's creating pulse that beats and sings
The music of maternity whence springs
All life; and shaping earthly ends,
From the deep sources of the heavens drawn,
Planting its ways with beauty, on it wends,
On and forever on.



Madison Julius Cawein


Madison Julius Cawein's other poems:
  1. Face to Face
  2. The Town Witch
  3. The Puritans' Christmas
  4. The Hills
  5. Spring on the Hills


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Alfred Tennyson The Brook ("I come from haunts of coot and hern")
  • Edward Thomas The Brook ("Seated once by a brook, watching a child")
  • John Tabb The Brook ("It is the mountain to the sea")

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