POEMS OF AN INTERVAL. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. SECTION I. THE RIVER. A RIVER gushed forth from its grass-strewn source The soft green hills among, And murmuring moved in meandering course The flowery meads along, And laughing, low lisped its flowing verse, And rippled its silvery song. Now it bounds along in bubbling rills, Now its drop the thirsty wild flower fills, So stealing thro' sentinel rushes it keeps, While sweetly its sunlit water sleeps, Soon swelling in stream of wider spread, But, deepening in its pebbly bed, It dreams of the distant main; And it scorns its first shy streamlet thread, Now it pauses to paint the old church tower, Now winding it skirts some blooming bower, Where reposes the gentle maid: And her charms she'll unveil in that languid hour, When none but the stream dare invade. It has caught the gay gleams of the morning sun And the gaze of that blue-eyed little one, Leaning over the rustic bridge. Now it courses through Oxford's classic ground, Where Thame and Isis meet; Now 'tis twining the castled halls around Of Windsor's royal seat: |