1. LINES WRITTEN NEAR RICHMOND, UPON THE THAMES, AT EVENING.
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How rich the wave, in front, imprest
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With evening-twilight's summer hues,
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While, facing thus the crimson west,
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The boat her silent path pursues!
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And see how dark the backward stream!
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A little moment past, so smiling!
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And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam,
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Some other loiterer beguiling.
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Such views the youthful bard allure,
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But, heedless of the following gloom,
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He deems their colours shall endure
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'Till peace go with him to the tomb.
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--And let him nurse his fond deceit,
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And what if he must die in sorrow!
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Who would not cherish dreams so sweet,
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Though grief and pain may come to-morrow?
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Glide gently, thus for ever glide,
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O Thames! that other bards may see,
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As lovely visions by thy side
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As now, fair river! come to me.
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Oh glide, fair stream! for ever so;
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Thy quiet soul on all bestowing,
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'Till all our minds for ever flow,
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As thy deep waters now are flowing.
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Vain thought! yet be as now thou art,
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That in thy waters may be seen
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The image of a poet's heart,
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How bright, how solemn, how serene!
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Such heart did once the poet bless,
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Who, pouring here a[3] _later_ ditty,
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Could find no refuge from distress,
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But in the milder grief of pity.
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Remembrance! as we glide along,
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For him suspend the dashing oar,
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And pray that never child of Song
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May know his freezing sorrows more.
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How calm! how still! the only sound,
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The dripping of the oar suspended!
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--The evening darkness gathers round
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By virtue's holiest powers attended.
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