Classic Poem

Flow on silver stream to the Ocean!
Through thy margin of osiers and willows
Thou fleest with eager and tremulous motion
To court the embrace of its billows:
'Till sinking at length on their bosom to bliss
In the transport of constant devotion
They welcome their wanderer home with a kiss
Of the deepest and purest emotion.
Thy stream like the loitering Scamander's
Through mazes tow'rd pleasure is winding
But alas! for my poor heart that wanders
Amid objects forever reminding
Sad thought, that Life vainly meanders
Lost hopes, and past joys never finding!