Songs of the sea children / Bliss Carman [electronic text]

XLIX.

I was a reed in the stilly stream, Heigh-ho! And thou my fellow of moveless dream, Heigh-lo.

Hardly a word the river said, As there we bowed him a listless head:

Only the yellowbird pierced the noon; And summer died to a drowsier swoon,

Till the little wind of night came by, With the little stars in the lonely sky,

And the little leaves that only stir, When shiest wood-fellows confer.

It shook the stars in their purple sphere, And laid a frost on the lips of fear.

It woke our slumbering desire, As a breath that blows a mellow fire,

And the thrill that made the forest start, Was a little sigh from our happy heart.

This is the story of the world, Heigh-ho! This is the glory of the world, Heigh-lo.