Where Go The Boats?

  Dark brown is the river,     Golden is the sand.   It flows along forever     With trees on either hand.   Green leaves a-floating,     Castles of the foam,   Boats of mine a-boating      Where will all come home?   On goes the river     And out past the mill,   Away down the valley,     Away down the hill.   Away down the river,     A hundred miles or more,   Other little children     Shall bring my boats ashore. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON