The Lovers Journey

Forth rode Orlando by a river’s side,
Inland and winding, smooth, and full and wide,
That rolled majestic on, in one soft flowing tide;
The bottom gravel, flowery were the banks,
Tall willows, waving in their broken ranks;
The road, now near, now distant, winding led
By lovely meadows which the waters fed;
He passed the wayside inn, the village spire,
Nor stopped to gaze, to question, or admire;
On either side the rural mansions stood,
With hedge-row trees, and hills high-crowned with wood,
And many a devious stream that reached the nobler flood.

[Extract]