WHERE THE BROOK RUSHES SWIFTLY 
5i 
Where the Brook Rushes Swiftly. 
BY CHARLES NEVERS HOLMES, NEWTON, MASS. 
Out of silence and shade 
Into sunlight and glade. 
From a slender, lost rill 
Purling down on a hill 
To a river or sea, 
Like some spirit set free, 
Rushing restless and fast, 
Flows a sylvan brook past. 
Out of silence and shade, 
In a constant cascade 
Over boulder and stone, 
With a deep monotone, 
Foaming fiercely and white, 
Like a torrent 'n flight, 
Rushing restless and fast, 
Flows a sylvan brook past. 
The meadow, stretching toward the hills. 
Always imagination thrills; 
We long to flit o’er its flowery way, 
To where the heights get break o’ day; 
For there a wide horizon waits 
To show us nigh to Heaven’s gates. 
— Emma Peirce. 
WHERE THE BROOK RUSHES SWIFTLY. 
The publication of this brook photograph in our number for July inspired the poem by Mr. Holmes. 
