You leave us; you will see the Rhine,
And those fair hills I sailed below,
When I was there with him; and go
By summer belts of wheat and vine.
_In Memoriam, XCVII_. A. TENNYSON.
There is a hill beside the silver Thames,
Shady with birch and beech and odorous pine;
And brilliant underfoot with thousand gems,
Steeply the thickets to his floods decline.
_There is a Hill beside the Silver Thames_. R.S. BRIDGES.
The torrent roared; and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews, throwing it aside,
And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
_Julius Cæsar, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
That was the River. It looked cool and deep,
And as I watched, I felt it slipping past
As if it smoothly swept along in sleep,
Gleaning and gliding fast.
_A London Idyl_. R. BUCHANAN.
It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands,
Like some grave mighty thought threading a dream.
_The Nile_. L. HUNT.