The dripping of the oar suspended!

But, heedless of the following gloom,

The boat her silent path pursues!

Glide gently, thus for ever glide,

Who would not cherish dreams so sweet,

May know his freezing sorrows more.

And what if he must die in sorrow!

--The evening darkness gｒeａｄ.９９ｃｓｗ.cｏｍathers round

How bright, how solemn, how serene!

By virtues holiest powers attended.

For him suspend the dashing oar,

With evening-twilights summer hues,

A little moment past, so smiling!

Some other loiterer beguiling.

Till peace go with him to the tomb.

Oh glide, fair stream! for ever so;

As thy deep waters now are ?owing.

How calm! how still! the only sound,

But in the milder grief of pity.

While, facing thus the crimson west,

And pray that never child o九*九*藏*書f Song

And see how dark the backward stream!

The image of a poets heart,

As now, fair river! come to me.

Remembrance! as we glide along,

And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam,

That in thy waters may be seen

He deems their colours shall endure

Vain thought! yet be as now thread.99csw.comou art,

As lovely visions by thy side

[3] Collinss Ode on the death of Thomson, the last written, Ibelieve, of the poems which were published during hislife-time. This Ode is also alluded to in the next stanza.

Could ?nd no refuge from distress,

Till all our minds for ever ?ow,

Thy read.99csw.comquiet soul on all bestowing,

Such views the youthful bard allure,

Who, pouring here a[3] _later_ ditty,

--And let him nurse his fond deceit,

Such heart did once the poet bless,

How rich the wave, in front, imprest

Though grief and pain may come to-morrow?

O Thames! that other bards may see,