Poem by William Lisle Bowles

Sonnet 5. To the River Tweed

O Tweed! a stranger, that with wandering feet
O'er hill and dale has journeyed many a mile,
(If so his weary thoughts he might beguile),
Delighted turns thy stranger-stream to greet.
The waving branches that romantic bend
O'er thy tall banks a soothing charm bestow;
The murmurs of thy wandering wave below
Seem like the converse of some long-lost friend.
Delightful stream! though now along thy shore,
When spring returns in all her wonted pride,
The distant pastoral pipe is heard no more;
Yet here while laverocks sing could I abide,
Far from the stormy world's contentious roar,
To muse upon thy banks at eventide. 

1. Sonnet 1. As slow I climb the cliff's ascending side
2. Netley Abbey
3. Sonnet 7. At a Village in Scotland
4. Cadland, Southampton River
5. Fonthill Abbey

Print

1224 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version