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Written near Richmond upon the Thames.

Glide gently, thus for ever glide,

O Thames! that other bards may see,
As lovely visions by thy side

As now, fair river! come to me.
Oh glide, fair stream! for ever so;
Thy quiet soul on all bestowing,
"Till all our minds for ever flow,
As thy deep waters now are flowing.

Vain thought! yet be as now thou art, That in thy waters may be seen

The image of a poet's heart,

How bright, how solemn, how serene!

Such as did once the poet bless,
Who, pouring here a * later ditty,
Could find no refuge from distress,
But in the milder grief of pity.

Remembrance! as we float along,
For him suspend the dashing oar,
And pray that never child of Song
May know his freezing sorrows more.
How calm! how still! the only sound,
The dripping of the oar suspended!
-The evening darkness gathers round
By virtue's holiest powers

* Collins's Ode on the death of Thomson, the last written, I believe, of the poems which were published during his life-time. This Ode is also alluded to in the next stanza.





'Tis eight o'clock,-a clear March night, The moon is up-the sky is blue, The owlet in the moonlight air,

He shouts from nobody knows where;

He lengthens out his lonely shout,

Halloo! halloo! a long halloo!


-Why bustle thus about your
What means this bustle, Betty Foy?
Why are you in this mighty fret?
And why on horseback have you set
Him whom you love, your idiot boy?

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