 | Songs at the Start |  |
78
TO THE RIVER.
Friend Charles! 'tis long since even for a spaceWe stood in cordial parley: you and I,
(Albeit about the selfsame city lie
The daily orbits we in silence pace),
Seldom, how seldom, see each other's face!
Always had you a mill to turn near by,
A race to aid; and I, with scarce a sigh,
Passed, on like duties bound with heavy grace.
But now good Leisure puts all things in tune,
Now o'er their brimming bowls in odorous whiff
The gods send up the clouds above us curled,
Let us go forth, my Charles! thro' fields of June
Together, gladly, lovingly, as if
We could not have enough of this sweet world.
| Songs at the Start | |