I heard a brooklet gushing br From its rocky fountain near, br Down into the valley rushing, br So fresh and wondrous clear. br br I know not what came o'er me, br Nor who the counsel gave; br But I must hasten downward, br All with my pilgrim-stave; br br Downward, and ever farther, br And ever the brook beside; br And ever fresher murmured, br And ever clearer, the tide. br br Is this the way I was going? br Whither, O brooklet, say I br Thou hast, with thy soft murmur, br Murmured my senses away. br br What do I say of a murmur? br That can no murmur be; br 'Tis the water-nymphs, that are singing br Their roundelays under me. br br Let them sing, my friend, let them murmur, br And wander merrily near; br The wheels of a mill are going br In every brooklet clear.