University of Virginia Library

What, my good friend, Ferry-boat
Still in being? Still afloat?
Still an engine to convey
Me across Trent's watery way?
Still a moving bridge to glide
Steadily from side to side?
Still a bark to carry over
Idle or laborious rover,
Cottager, or bard, or lover?—
More debts even than I know
Unto this good Boat I owe,
Which hath help'd me, boy and man,
Oft to fields Elysian;—
Wilford Bank and Clifton Grove,
Lovely haunts which lovers love;—
To the wildest gardens, where
I have breathed enchanted air,
And amid the wondering trees
Watch'd the fairies' revelries.
Oberon I have seen, I swear,
And the sweet Titania, there;
And the Lady Mab, besides,
Who in mossy cleft abides;
And the trickster Puck, who glides
Long green leaves of arum under,
To enjoy the start of wonder
And the eyelids wide asunder
Thrown, when some sly sound he gives,
And the wanderer deceives:—
Now it is a splash, and now
'Tis the noise of cracking bough;
Or a whistle, shrill and lonely;
Or a sound of footstep only,
With the which to fool and cheat
The traveller: then in retreat
Falls, with smother'd laughs, the elf,
'Gainst the stem still props himself,
And though still he slyly hides,
Arum shakes, as shake his sides.

Wilford Bank and Clifton Grove,
Lovely land that lovers love,
Yes, full many fine enjoyments
I have had there; sweet employments;
Flower-gatherings; recollections
Of the Queen of my affections;
High poetic gleams and fancies;
Smiling hopes and rich romances;
For all which I am in debt
To this good Boat: wherefore let
Time and chance look kindly on it,
And its days sit light upon it;
Be its solid timbers long
Serviceably hale and strong,
And the fates its final date
To old age procrastinate;
Guarding safe its privileges
From upstart usurping bridges.

On the chain the pillar grates;
Shut, behind, the watery gates,
Ope before to let us through.
We have one man for our crew,
And two passengers has he.
Free, yon seat, for me and thee.
But if child thou sawest here,
Or a woman, plain or fair,
Hoary matron or young maiden,
Or a man heavily laden
With his years, or with a basket,
Shouldst not wait until he ask it;
Shouldst not sit to let her sue thee;
Hard that seat should seem unto thee
Till thou didst its service press
On them with frank courteousness;
Age or weakness,—'twere scarce fitting
These should stand and thou be sitting!

Here have stood how many feet!
Here how many hearts have beat
O'er this deck! This selfsame Boat
'Twixt two running streams doth float,—
O'er and under;—for, below,
Watery, and, above, doth flow
Human tide. Ages ago
Two streams at this ferry ran,—
River Trent and river Man.

The other notch must now receive
This handle. Good friend,—with your leave?—
Thank you! Trust me, I must grieve
On your comfort to intrude;—
Need compels me to be rude;—
Here till midnight must we stay
Till the helm be put this way.

Nearer now yon whiten'd walls
Beckon, and the old church calls
Us with other voice than bell:
So bid we this Boat farewell.—
Farewell! Aye, and dear to me
Memory of this Boat shall be,—
Boat, upon whose actual wood
Dear feet, sacred feet, have stood;
Feet of gracious, feet of good,
Feet of noble Sister sweet,
At whose name beloved must beat
Fresher pulses, and a heat
Must the eyes fill, and a sound
Musical the ears; and round
Heart the kind thoughts cluster thick
As, round magnet, grains of steel,—
As, round queen-bee, swarm-bees quick.
Thou 'rt far with thy loved one; still
Not so far but I can feel
Thine effect as lowly calm,
Sweet as sound of solemn psalm;
And an influence stealing o'er me;
And a light that gleams before me;
And a voice urging to press
On to real holiness,
Nor relax the labour now
Till I be as pure as thou!
Yes, that noble heart hath been
Even here; those eyes have seen,—
Gentle eyes,—this very scene;
Her foot trod this plank; was set
Even here: sprang violet
And the primrose as she stept,
Surely; and the hard earth leapt
To be so happied!—
Dearest Boat!
Wert thou richest bark afloat;
Were thy nails of solid gold,
All thy deck with silver roll'd,
And complete in luxury;
Still, I could not look on thee
With that special admiration,
With that something love and passion,
Wherewith, when thy planks I view,
Now for her sole sake I do.

Truly I did well to pray
Time and chance, from day to day,
That they might look kindly on thee,
And thy years sit light upon thee,
And thy solid timbers long
Serviceable be and strong,
And the fates thy final date
To old age procrastinate;
Guarding safe thy privileges
From upstart, usurping bridges!