The Meeting Waters

Close beside the meeting waters,

Long I stood, as in a dream,

Watching how the little river

Fell into the broader stream.

Calm and still the mingled current,

Glided to the waiting sea;

On its breast serenely pictured

Floating cloud and skirting tree.

And I thought, “O human spirit!

Strong and deep and pure and blest,

Let the stream of my existence

Blend with thine, and find its rest!”

I could die as dies the river,

In that current deep and wide;

I would live as live its waters,

Flashing from a stronger tide!