- Dear native brook! wild streamlet to
the West!
- How many various-fated years
have past,
- What happy, and what mournful
hours since last
- I skimmed the smooth thin stone
along thy breast,
- Numbering its light leaps! yet so
deep imprest
- Sink the sweet scenes of childhood,
that mine eyes
- I never shut amid the sunny ray,
- But straight with all their tints
thy waters rise,
- Thy crossing plank, thy marge
with willows grey,
- And bedded sand that, veined with
various dyes,
- Gleamed through thy bright
transparence! On my way,
- Visions of childhood! oft have
ye beguiled
- Lone manhood's cares, yet waking
fondest sighs:
- Ah! that once more I were a careless
child!
Sonnet to the River Otter -
Samuel Taylor Coleridge |
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