Classic Poem

I .

With ripples tuned to silver song
Our current foams and leaps along.
On either hand the green reeds close:
We see the brown bee rob the rose.

Upon the hedge its petals gleam:
The red rose closed its eyes to dream.
Into its heart the quick bee goes,
And sucks its sweetness from the rose.

Within our safe strong-timbered locks
The painted shallop sways and rocks:
Beneath our waves the pike darts by,
And all the timorous grey roach fly.

The white-sailed ghostly cutters glide
Along our curves and reaches wide:
And now the river-steamer too
Cuts with keen keel the waters blue.

Fleet racing-boats with eager force
Along our current steer their course.
Past piers and London wharfs we flow:
We lap stone walls with ripples slow.

We hear love whispered on the breeze,
And underneath our neighbouring trees.
White hands lean from the boat's bright edge,
And draw up lilies draped with sedge.

The spotted trout flash through the deep,
And up the weir great salmon leap.
The angler's fly says, " If you dare,
Snap at me! " to the dace down there.

Along the stream gold fields of corn
Shine underneath the sun at morn:
And in the afternoon they seem,
Mist-clad, like cornfields in a dream.

We, rivers light of heart and gay,
Chant through the whole long summer day;
And, when the harvest moon is up,
We make love to the cowslip cup.

The ragged-robin on our edge
Whispers " Good evening " to the sedge.
The red kine come to cool their feet
In our clear waves in August heat.

The country girls wash clothes, and laugh,
And hollowing hands, our waves they quaff.
A thousand slight things fill the day —
Then, when the sunset fades away,

The yellow moon above our banks
Rises, discerned through tall green ranks
Of rushes on the water-line:
Then one by one the bright stars shine.

All is so lovely in our life:
So free from labour, sorrow, strife.
We thank the God who gave his streams
Their day of toil, their night of dreams.

Dreams very tender, — seldom sad.
We watch the eyes of lovers glad:
We hear the maiden's whispered " I
Shall love you, darling, till I die. "

We hear the strong man answer: " Love,
Our love will last till heights above
Receive us. True love cannot die:
It shares the stars eternity. "

We hear, and we are glad. We float
More buoyantly the lovers' boat.
With tender thoughts we watch it gleam
Adown the darkness of the stream.

II .

The memories of our mountains still
Are with us. — Each was once a rill,
Swift, foaming down some mountain's edge,
And tumbling on from ledge to ledge.

Then large the greatening river grew,
And deeper yet, and yet more blue.
Great towns it passed, — and then began
To carry out the schemes of man.

The white-sailed ships pursued their course
Along the river, — used its force.
It floated lilies in past hours,
But now it floated ships for flowers!

Yet, deepening ever in our flow,
As we bear commerce to and fro,
We feel, if youth's first dreams are lost,
The gain is worthy of the cost.

In countries many, mighty and great,
We aid man's tasks, we share man's state;
Where were the glory of the Thames
Without its steamers' iron stems?

What were the grandeur of the Seine,
Unshadowed by the historic fane?
Highly the Seine mid rivers ranks,
For Notre Dame is on its banks.

And Westminster's grey stately towers
Are worth the loss of early flowers
That Nuneham flung, or Oxford threw,
From golden fields on waters blue.

III .

Thus, deepening onward, carrying ships,
Kissing the air with statelier lips,
Stream after stream must ever tend
On towards its God-appointed end.

The end is grand, the end is sure:
In front, a heaven of waters pure
And vast and stainless waits the stream —
A waste wherein its soul may dream

Dreams kinglier far than dreams that sped
About it in the days long dead;
Old dreams of mountains robed in mist,
Far meadows by the sunlight kissed.

This waits us when our work is done:
A night wherethrough can pierce no sun;
A depth no starlight from the air
Can traverse, — nor can moon gleam there.

This waits us. Deep our souls shall rest
Within the mighty ocean's breast.
Rill, river, stream — We all shall be
Lost in the greatness of the sea.