THEY left their home of summer ease,
Beneath the lowland's sheltering trees,
To seek, by ways unknown to all,
The promise of the waterfall.
Some vague, faint rumour to the vale
Had crept perchance a hunter's tale—
Of its wild mirth of waters lost
On the dark woods through which it tossed.
SEEKING OF THE WATERFALL.
Somewhere it laughed and sang; somewhere
Whirled in mad dance its misty hair;
But who had raised its veil or seen
The rainbow skirts of that Undine?
They sought it where the mountain brook
Its swift way to the valley took;
Along the rugged slope they clomb,
Their guide a thread of sound and foam.
Height after height they slowly won ;
The fiery javelins of the sun
Smote the bare ledge; the tangled shade
With rock and vine their steps delayed.
But through leaf openings, now and then
They saw the cheerful homes of men,
And the great mountains with their wall
Of misty purple girdling all.
The leaves through which the glad winds blew
Shared the wild dance the waters knew ;
And where the shadows deepest fell
The wood-thrush rang his silver bell.
Fringing the stream, at every turn,
Swung low the waving fronds of fern;
From stony cleft and mossy sod
Pale asters sprang, and golden-rod.
And still the waters sang the sweet
Glad song that stirred its gliding feet,
And found in rock and root the keys
Of its beguiling melodies.
Beyond, above, its signals flew
Of tossing foam the birch-trees through; Now seen, now lost, but baffling still The weary seekers' slackening will.
Each called to each: "Lo here! Lo there!
Its white scarf flutters in the air!"
They climbed anew; the vision fled,
To beckon higher overhead.
So toiled they up the mountain slope
With faint and ever fainter hope;
With faint and fainter voice the brook
Still bade them listen, pause and look.
Meanwhile below the day was done ;
Above, the tall peaks saw the sun
Sink, beam-shorn, to its misty set
Behind the hills of violet.
"Here ends our quest !" the seekers cried, "The book and rumour both have lied! The phantom of a waterfall
Has led us at its beck and call."
But one, with years grown wiser, said:
"So, always baffled, not misled,
We follow where before us runs
The vision of the shining ones.
"Not where they seem their signals fly,
Their voices while we listen die ;
We cannot keep, however fleet,
The quick time of the shining feet.
SEEKING OF THE WATERFALL.
"From youth to age unresting stray
These kindly mockers in our way;
Yet lead they not, the baffling elves,
To something better than themselves?
"Here, though unreached the goal we sought,
Its own reward our toil has brought :
The winding water's sounding rush,
The long note of the hermit thrush.
"The turquoise lakes, the glimpse of pond
And river track, and, vast, beyond
Broad meadows belted round with pines,
The grand uplift of mountain lines!
"What matter though we seek with pain
The garden of the gods in vain,
If lured thereby we climbed to greet
Some wayside blossom Eden-sweet?
"To seek is better than to gain,
The fond hope dies as we attain ;
Life's fairest things are those which seem,
The best is that of which we dream.
"Then let us trust our waterfall
Still flashes down its rocky wall,
With rainbow crescent curved across
Its sunlit spray from moss to moss."
THE STONE-CUTTER'S SIX WISHES.
ONCE a poor Stone-cutter
In Eastern quarries wrought;
His toil was long and weary,
And little wages brought;
And as above the stone he bent,
He murmured in his discontent :
"Oh, if I could be only
Rich enough some day
To rest on carpets warm and thick,
In silken garments gay!
7!"
His murmur mounted to the sky ;
His guardian angel made reply :-
"Thy wishes have been granted!"
And soon the poor man sat,
All clad in silk so soft and gay,
On many a costly mat;
There as he sat in wealth and joy
Behold, the Emperor went by.
Runners ran before him,
And his titles cried;
Splendid horsemen rode behind,
·More splendid at his side ;
While one above his head did,
A great umbrella all of gold.
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