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written near richmond, upon the thames,
How rich the wave, in front, imprest
And see how dark the backward stream!
Such views the youthful bard allure,
Who would not cherish dreams so sweet,
Though grief and pain may come to-morrow?
Glide gently, thus for ever glide,
O Thames! that other bards may see,
As lovely visions by thy side
As now, fair river! come to me.
Vain thought! yet be as now thou art,
How bright, how solemn, how serene!
Remembrance! as we glide along,
* Collins's Ode on the death of Thomson, the laft written, I believe, of the poems which were published during his life-time. This Ode is also alluded to in the next stanza,
Why William, on that old grey stone, "Thus for the length of half a day,
"Why William, sit you thus alone, "And dream your time away?
"Where are your books? that light bequeath'd "To beings else forlorn and blind!
Up! Up! and drink the spirit breath'd
From dead men to their kind.
"You look round on your mother earth, "As if she for no purpose bore you; "As if you were her first-born birth, "And none had lived before you!"
One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake,
"The eye it cannot chuse but see,
"Nor less I deem that there are powers, "Which of themselves our minds impress, "That we can feed this mind of ours, "In a wise passiveness.