Brook, That Hast Been My Solace Days and Weeks

Brook, that hast been my solace days and weeks,
And months, and let me add the long year through,
I come to thee, thou dost my heart renew;
O happy Thing! among thy flowery creeks,
And happy, dancing down thy water-breaks:
If I some type of thee did wish to view,
Thee, and not thee thyself, I would not do
Like Grecian Poets, give thee human cheeks,
Channels for tears! No Naiad should’st thou be;
Have neither wings, feet, feathers, joints, nor hairs.
It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee
With purer robes than those of flesh and blood,
And hath bestowed on thee a better good;
The joy of fleshly life without its cares.