Poem by Robert Southey

Corston

AS thus I stand beside the murmuring stream,
And watch its current, Memory here portrays
Scenes faintly formed of half-forgotten days,
Like far-off woodlands by the moon’s bright beam
Dimly descried, but lovely. I have worn
Amid these haunts the heavy hours away,
When childhood idled through the sabbath day;
Risen to my tasks at winter’s earliest morn;
And, when the summer twilight darkened here,
Thinking of home, and all of heart forlorn,
Have sighed, and shed in secret many a tear.
Dreamlike and indistinct those days appear,
As the faint sounds of this low brooklet, borne
Upon the breeze, reach fitfully the ear.

1. For the Cenotaph at Ermenonville
2. St. Bartholomew’s Day
3. King Henry the Fifth and the Hermit of Dreux
4. For a Monument in the New Forest
5. For a Tablet at Penshurst

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