STREAM of my life, dull, placid river, flow!
I have no fear of the ingulfing seas:
Neither I look before me nor behind,
But, lying mute with wave-dipped hand, float on.

It was not always so. My brethren, see
This oar-stained, trembling palm. It keeps the sign
Of youth's mad wrestling with the waves that drift
Immutably, eternally along.

I would have had them flow through fields and flowers,
Giving and taking freshness, perfume, joy;
It winds through--here. Be silent, O my soul!
--The finger of God's wisdom drew its line.

So I lean back and look up to the stars,
And count the ripples circling to the shore,
And watch the solemn river rolling on
Until it widen to the open seas.

More verses by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik