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tanu nanwani

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The Brook Alfred Tennyson I come from haunts of coot and hern,    I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern,    To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down,    Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorpes, a little town,    And half a hundred bridges.

The Brook Alfred Tennyson I come from haunts of coot and hern,    I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern,    To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down,    Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorpes, a little town,    And half a hundred bridges.

Tripta Nanwani

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The Brook Alfred Tennyson I come from haunts of coot and hern,    I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern,    To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down,    Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorpes, a little town,    And half a hundred bridges.

The Brook Alfred Tennyson I come from haunts of coot and hern,    I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern,    To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down,    Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorpes, a little town,    And half a hundred bridges.