The Lost Rivers

Far down from the thunder And rush of the street, Flow Westbourne and Tyebourne And Effra and Fleet, 'Neath blue skies and grey skies Once freely that ran - Lost rivers of London, Forgotten of man. Do they ever remember Where night is like day, Red leaves of October And green leaves of May; The sunshine and starshine, The rain and the dew, The gold of the kingcup, The kingfisher's blue? Do they think of the flurry And rush of the weirs, The mill-wheel that scattered Drops from it like tears, The sun-dappled shallows, The dusk of the pool Whose fishes bade urchins Play truant from school? Do they dream about cresses And catkins in spring, And beds of green rushes Where reed-warblers sing, Of willow-herb blowing And swallows that weave, Where the dragonfly glistens, Their mazes at eve? Deep under the bustle And rush of the street Flow Westbourne and Tyebourne And Effra and Fleet, In darkness and silence Forlornly they run, Lost rivers of London, Forgetting the sun.