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TO THE THAMES.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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112

TO THE THAMES.

[_]

Written from the Temple, to Ardelia, in M.DCC.LXVIII.

Gentle Thames, whose Waters lave
Duly, these collegiate Walls,
Stop, an instant, stop thy Wave;
Tis a Lover's Voice that calls.
E'er that Time can measure o'er
One short Hour, thy silver Stream
Shall salute the peaceful Shore,
Where resides my Muse's Theme.—

113

Gentle River! well I know
What a Love thy Moon bears thee:
How thy Springs obedient flow,
Pouring Truth, and Harmony.
Such a mutual Passion reigns
In Ardelia's Breast and mine;
She's the Orb that swells my Veins,
To her Influence I resign!—
Let thy undulating Tide
With the sportive Sun-beam play:
Close beneath her Window glide,
Bid thy Cygnets mark thy Way.
Should'st thou haply see my Fair,
Lure her to thy view awhile;
Tidings of my Welfare bear,
Waft a Sigh, and steal a Smile.—

114

Go,—and Plenty round thee pour,
I'll thy Course no longer stay:
Blessing many a distant Shore,
Beauteous River! haste away.