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Little Rivers: A Book of Essays in Profitable Idleness

by Henry Van Dyke

Pages
about 210
Category
Literature & Fiction
Language
English
Reading time
3.9 h at 250 wpm
Start readingThe whole book, as cards or one word at a time. 2.1 h at 450 wpm in Read mode.

From the opening

To one who wanders by my side As cheerfully as waters glide; Whose eyes are brown as woodland streams, And very fair and full of dreams; Whose heart is like a mountain spring, Whose thoughts like merry rivers sing: To her--my little daughter Brooke-- I dedicate this little book.

When tulips bloom in Union Square, And timid breaths of vernal air Are wandering down the dusty town, Like children lost in Vanity Fair;

When every long, unlovely row Of westward houses stands aglow And leads the eyes toward sunset skies, Beyond the hills where green trees grow;

Then weary is the street parade, And weary books, and weary trade: I'm only wishing to go a-fishing; For this the month of May was made.

I guess the pussy-willows now Are creeping out on every bough Along the brook; and robins look For early worms behind the plough.

The thistle-birds have changed their dun For yellow coats to match the sun; And in the same array of flame The Dandelion Show's begun.

The flocks of young anemones Are dancing round the budding trees: Who can help wishing to go a-fishing In days as full of joy as these?

I think the meadow-lark's clear sound Leaks upward slowly from the ground, While on the wing the bluebirds ring Their wedding-bells to woods around:

The flirting chewink calls his dear Behind the bush; and very near, Where water flows, where green grass grows, Song-sparrows gently sing, "Good cheer:"

And, best of all, through twilight's calm The hermit-thrush repeats his psalm: How much I'm wishing to go a-fishing In days so sweet with music's balm!

'Tis not a proud desire of mine; I ask for nothing superfine; No heavy weight, no salmon great, To break the record, or my line:

Only an idle little stream, Whose amber waters softly gleam, Where I may wade, through woodland shade, And cast the fly, and loaf, and dream:

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