Thursday, August 8, 2019

Water of Leith


Flows the brook from stone to stone
Down to the sea, in which to drown.
Guiltless the brook, and guileless too;
The brook does not make me think of you.

The brook does not for a moment guess
What bend or boil it brawls to next,
But slips on down to the hungry sea;
The brook is as big a fool as me.

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