The Brook

The Brook


I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally

And sparkle out among the fern,

To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down,

Or slip between the ridges,

By twenty thorpes, a little town,

And half a hundred bridges.



Till last by Philip's farm I flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on for ever.

I chatter over stony ways,

In little sharps and trebles,

I bubble into eddying bays,

I babble on the pebbles.



With many a curve my banks I fret

By many a field and fallow,

And many a fairy foreland set

With willow-weed and mallow.



I chatter, chatter, as I flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on for ever.

I wind about, and in and out,

With here a blossom sailing,

And here and there a lusty trout,

And here and there a grayling,



And here and there a foamy flake

Upon me, as I travel

With many a silvery waterbreak

Above the golden gravel,

And draw them all along, and flow

To join the brimming river

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on for ever.



I steal by lawns and grassy plots,

I slide by hazel covers;

I move the sweet forget-me-nots

That grow for happy lovers.



I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,

Among my skimming swallows;

I make the netted sunbeam dance

Against my sandy shallows.

I murmur under moon and stars

In brambly wildernesses;

I linger by my shingly bars;

I loiter round my cresses;



And out again I curve and flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on for ever.

                                       - Alfred Lord Tennyson

This poem, the Brook by Alfred Lord Tennyson is one poem which I completely adore. I happened cross it purely by chance or maybe fate. That I shall never know, but I do know one thing: This guy is a genius. In his personification of a stream he describes in detail the small unaffected route this tiny stream takes to join the river. The stream is completely indifferent to what is happening around it and is content in its own happy little bubble.

I guess what I really like about the poem is that this minuscule brook does not have any trace of human pollution on it. In a world where the forces of Nature are fast being oppressed this brook doesn't give a damn to what the humans do or think of it. Many lines from the poem state the same. The line : " For men may come and men may go, but I go on forever" has earned a permanent place in my heart. The strong individuality of the stream is embodied in these two lines.

It gives me hope, even though this poem was written a long time ago that if one little stream can emerge unscathed from human influence maybe, there is scope for the other's too. This poem makes for a great read, when I feel depressed. I myself am not an avid reader of poems. I would rather plop down on a comfy chair with my nose glues to a novel. But this poem is right up there with all my novels. An evergreen classic, go for it guys!