WRITTEN WHILE SAILING IN A BOAT AT EVENING
This title is scarcely correct. It was during
a solitary walk on the banks of the Cam that I was first struck
with this appearance, and applied it to my own feelings in the
manner here expressed, changing the scene to the Thames, near
Windsor. This, and the three stanzas of the following poem, "Remembrance
of Collins," formed one piece; but, upon the recommendation of
Coleridge, the three last stanzas were separated from the other.
How richly glows the water's breast
Before us, tinged with evening hues,
While, facing thus the crimson west,
The boat her silent course pursues!
And see how dark the backward stream!
A little moment past so smiling!
And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam,
Some other loiterers beguiling.
Such views the youthful Bard allure;
But, heedless of the following gloom,
He deems their colours shall endure
Till peace go with him to the tomb.
--And let him nurse his fond deceit,
And what if he must die in sorrow!
Who would not cherish dreams so sweet,
Though grief and pain may come to-morrow?