Thomas Pringle

To the River Earn

THOU, mountain stream, whose early torrent course
Hath many a drear and distant region seen,
Windest thy downward way with slackened force,
As with the journey thou hadst wearied been;
And, all enamored of these margins green,
Delight’st to wander with a sportive tide;
Seeming with refluent current still to glide
Around the hazel banks that o’er thee lean.
Like thee, wild stream! my wearied soul would roam
(Forgetful of life’s dark and troublous hour),
Through scenes where Fancy frames her fairy bower,
And Love, enchanted, builds his cottage-home:
But time and tide wait not, and I, like thee,
Must go where tempests rage, and wrecks bestrew the sea!