Thames

THAMES, infant Thames,

      Rippling, flowing

    Water-white,

    Where the bright

Young wilding gems

      Are blowing;

  Babbling ever in unrest,

While as o’er her darling’s pillow

Bends the mother, so the willow

            O’er thy breast.

Thames, maiden Thames,

      Glancing, shining

    Silver-blue;

    While for you

The lilied stems

      Are pining.

  Ah! thou lovest best to play

Slily with the wanton swallow,

While he whispers thee to follow

            Him away.

Thames, matron Thames,

      That ebbest back

    From the sea;

    Oh! in thee

There are emblems

      Of life’s track:

  We, too, would, like thee, regain,

If we might, our greener hours;

We, too, mourn our vanished flowers,

            But in vain.