Lines written near Richmond, upon the Thames, at Evening
William Wordsworth
1770 to 1850
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How rich the wave, in front, imprest
With evening-twilight's hues,
While, facing thus the crimson west,
The boat silent path pursues!
And see how dark the backward stream,
A little moment past so smiling!
And still perhaps, faithless gleam,
Some other loiterer beguiling.
Such views the bard allure;
But heedless of the following gloom,
He their colours shall endure
Till peace go with him the tomb.
--And let him nurse his fond deceit,
what if he must die in sorrow!
Who would cherish dreams so sweet,
Though grief and pain may to-morrow?
Glide gently, thus for ever glide,
O Thames! other bards may see,
As lovely visions by thy
As now, fair river! come to me.
O glide, stream! for ever so,
Thy quiet soul on all bestowing,
Till all our minds for ever flow
As thy waters now are flowing.
Vain thought! Yet be as thou art,
That in thy waters may be seen
image of a poet's heart,
How bright, how solemn, serene!
Such heart did once the poet bless,
Who, here a later ditty,
Could find no refuge from
Save in the milder grief of pity.
Remembrance! as glide along,
For him suspend the dashing oar,
And that never child of Song
May know his freezing more.
How calm! how still! the only sound,
The of the oar suspended!
The evening darkness gathers round
virtue’s holiest powers attended.