oh what a charming stream 
passed over by me but not to itself 
i was here or there blocked by thoughts
concerned amazed by silly asides

while stream never moved it just flowed
leaves in it by day rippling stars at night 
through meadows of grass and many copses of trees 

a pleasant scene of a pleasant stream 

the mind conquered and the soul reminded

by the stream that as all our plans are like leaves

that it takes and makes disappear round the bend 

around another bend and so on till all is gone

They mark it DEAD END
But I call it a the start of something new
For at your feet begins a meadow 
Full of tunnels of dew and leaves still green 
And if you go further you find a stream 
Whose waters and shimmering sands
Glint coldly gold and silver specks 
Alive with sleeping fish nature’s body