Classic Poem

Thou stately stream that with the swelling tide
'Gainst London walls incessantly dost beat,
Thou Thames, I say, where barge and boat doth ride,
And snow-white swans do fish for needful meat:

When so my love, of force or pleasure, shall
Flit on thy flood as custom is to do,
Seek not with dread her courage to appall,
But calm thy tide, and smoothly let it go,
As she may joy, arrived to siker shore,
To pass the pleasant stream she did before.

To welter up and surge in wrathful wise,
As did the flood where Helle drenchéd was,
Would but procure defame of thee to rise;
Wherefore let all such ruthless rigor pass.
So wish I that thou may'st with bending side
Have power for aye in wonted gulf to glide.