"THERE IS A LITTLE UNPRETENDING RILL"

          THERE a little unpretending Rill
          Of limpid water, humbler far than aught
          That ever among Men or Naiads sought
          Notice or name!--It quivers down the hill,
          Furrowing its shallow way with dubious will;
          Yet to my mind this scanty Stream is brought
          Oftener than Ganges or the Nile; a thought
          Of private recollection sweet and still!
          Months perish with their moons; year treads on year!
          But, faithful Emma! thou with me canst say                  10
          That, while ten thousand pleasures disappear,
          And flies their memory fast almost as they;
          The immortal Spirit of one happy day
          Lingers beside that Rill, in vision clear.
                                                              1820.