Where Go the Boats?
Dark brown is the river
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating-
Where will all come home?
On goes the river,
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore.
~Robert Louis Stevenson
A Boat beneath a summer sky
A Boat beneath a summer sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July-
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing year
Pleased a simple tale to hear-
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories dies:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet tale to hear
Eager eye and willing year
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die.
Ever drifting down the stream-
Lingering in the golden gleam-
Life, what is it but a dream.
~ Lewis Carroll
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