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Where Go the Boats? by Robert Louis Stevenson









Where Go the Boats? 

by Robert Louis Stevenson 


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.