Earth holds no sweeter secret anywhere
Than this my brook, that lisps along the green
Of mossy channels, where slim birch trees lean
Like tall pale ladies, whose delicious hair,
Lures and invites the kiss of wanton air.
The smooth soft grasses, delicate between
The rougher stalks, by waifs alone are seen,
Shy things that live in sweet seclusion there.
And is it still the same, and do the eyes
Of every silver ripple meet the trees
That bend above like guarding emerald skies?
I turn, who read the city’s beggared book,
And hear across the moan of many seas
The whisper and the laughter of my brook.
This poem is in the public domain.
About this Poem
“My Brook” was published in Helen Hay Whitney’s poetry collection Some Verses (1898).
Helen Hay Whitney
Helen Hay Whitney was born on March 11, 1875. She published several collections of verse, including Some Verses (1898) and Herbs and Apples (1910). She died on September 24, 1944.
Date Published: 1898-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/my-brook