| |
| THOUGH clouds obscured the morning hour, | |
| And keen and eager blew the blast, | |
| And drizzling fell the cheerless shower, | |
| As, doubtful, to the skiff we passed, | |
| |
| All soon, propitious to our prayer; | 5 |
| Gave promise of a brighter day; | |
| The clouds dispersed in purer air, | |
| The blasts in zephyrs died away. | |
| |
| So have we, love, a day enjoyed, | |
| On which we both—and yet who knows?— | 10 |
| May dwell with pleasure unalloyed, | |
| And dread no thorn beneath the rose. | |
| |
| How pleasant from that dome-crowned hill | |
| To view the varied scene below, | |
| Woods, ships, and spires, and, lovelier still, | 15 |
| The circling Thames’ majestic flow! | |
| |
| How sweet, as indolently laid, | |
| We overhung that long-drawn dale, | |
| To watch the checkered light and shade | |
| That glanced upon the shifting sail! | 20 |
| |
| And when the shadow’s rapid growth | |
| Proclaimed the noontide hour expired, | |
| And, though unwearied, nothing loath, | |
| We to our simple meal retired; | |
| |
| The sportive wile, the blameless jest, | 25 |
| The careless mind’s spontaneous flow, | |
| Gave to that simple meal a zest | |
| Which richer tables may not know. | |
| |
| The babe that on the mother’s breast | |
| Has toyed and wantoned for a while, | 30 |
| And, sinking in unconscious rest, | |
| Looks up to catch a parting smile, | |
| |
| Feels less assured than thou, dear maid, | |
| When, ere thy ruby lips could part | |
| (As close to mine thy cheek was laid), | 35 |
| Thine eyes had opened all thy heart. | |
| |
| Then, then I marked the chastened joy | |
| That lightly o’er thy features stole, | |
| From vows repaid (my sweet employ), | |
| From truth, from innocence of soul; | 40 |
| |
| While every word dropt on my ear | |
| So soft (and yet it seemed to thrill), | |
| So sweet that ’t was a heaven to hear, | |
| And e’en thy pause had music still. | |
| |
| And O, how like a fairy dream | 45 |
| To gaze in silence on the tide, | |
| While soft and warm the sunny gleam | |
| Slept on the glassy surface wide! | |
| |
| And many a thought of fancy bred, | |
| Wild, soothing, tender, undefined, | 50 |
| Played lightly round the heart, and shed | |
| Delicious languor o’er the mind. | |
| |
| So hours like moments winged their flight, | |
| Till now the boatmen on the shore, | |
| Impatient of the waning light, | 55 |
| Recalled us by the dashing oar. | |
| |
| Well, Anna, many days like this | |
| I cannot, must not hope to share; | |
| For I have found an hour of bliss | |
| Still followed by an age of care. | 60 |
| |
| Yet oft when memory intervenes— | |
| But you, dear maid, be happy still, | |
| Nor e’er regret, midst fairer scenes, | |
| The day we passed on Greenwich Hill. | |
| |
