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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - The Brook And The Wave. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Third)
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The brooklet came from the mountain,
  As sang the bard of old,
Running with feet of silver
  Over the sands of gold! 

Far away in the briny ocean
  There rolled a turbulent wave,
Now singing along the sea-beach,
  Now howling along the cave. 

And the brooklet has found the billow,
  Though they flowed so far apart,
And has filled with its freshness and sweetness
  That turbulent, bitter heart!
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