Poem by Augusta Webster

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MILES and miles of here and there
    Our eager river forced its way,
Bent to be it knew not where.

It had no rest in delay;
    And for its haste it had no aim;
Wherefore go? But wherefore stay?

Here and there led both the same;
    By any winding it could make
Near its secret goal it came.

When it reached the crystal lake
    It knew its aim and found its rest;
All the miles were for love's sake.

Mid the blue hills of the west
Our river lies in the lake's breast.

1. She Has Made Me Wayside Posies
2. Betrothed
3. Choosing
4. Once
5. The Brook Leaps Riotous

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