Have you got a brook in your little heart

Have you got a Brook in your little heart,
Where bashful flowers blow,
And blushing birds go down to drink -
And shadows tremble so -

And nobody knows, so still it flows,
That any brook is there,
And yet your little draught of life
Is daily drunken there -

Why - look out for the little brook in March,
When the rivers overflow,
And the snows come hurrying from the hills,
And the bridges often go -

And later, in August it may be,
When the meadows parching lie,
Beware, lest this little brook of life,
Some burning noon go dry!