The Brook by Ellen Carhart

From a fountain
In a mountain,
Drops of water ran,
Trickling through the grasses
So our brook began.

Slow it started;
Soon it darted,
Cool and clear and free,
Rippling over pebbles,
Hurrying to the sea.

Children straying
Came a-playing
On its pretty banks:
Glad, our little brooklet
Sparkled up its thanks.

Blossoms floating,
Mimic boating,
Fishes darting past,—
Swift and strong and happy,
Widening very fast,

Bubbling, singing,
Rushing, ringing,
Flecked with shade and sun,
Soon our pretty brooklet
To the sea has run.

The Brook by Ellen Carhart
I Am a Bee Book for Summer Reading for Children