Classic Poem

A charm is thine, O River! rage or rest;
And if thy storms enrapture us, thy calms
Do none the less into the mortal breast
Pour their immortal balms

Thou dreamy River, with thy freighted barks,
Resting upon their shadows, and, far through
Thy sunny deeps, the clouds, like sacred arks,
Floating in gulfs of blue!

The boatmen's voices, and their measured stroke,
Heard, but themselves unseen, far up the stream;
The ferry-steamers and their trailing smoke,
Moving in placid dream!

O River, calm and beautiful! O Peace,
That lies in folds about the flinty piers!
Great calm, that gives our fretted brains release—
Thought, melted into tears!