Water. Stream. Fall and crook.
Sea, rain and babbling brook.
Ive read of you in tale and book
But never thought of what you've took.
A leaf that falls into your hands;
I'll no not where again it lands.
And that creature no-one understands,
Washed up on the yellow beaches sands.
But one thing of you, I can justly declare
There is nothing of more beauty that I dares' t compare.
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