 | The Garden of Florence; and Other Poems |  |
150
SONG.
WRITTEN TO A FAVOURITE AIR.
1
By the river—by the riverThe round moon is rising;
Like the water she glideth,
In silence and light!
The tree-shadow falleth
In tremulous beauty,
And the swan yet abideth
The wave of the night.
2
By the river, by the river,At evening—in summer,—
151
The same tender moon!
But we never, we never
In summer,—at evening,—
Shall again steep our eyes in
The balm of her boon!
| The Garden of Florence; and Other Poems | |