English poetry

Poems in English

Sunday up the River

Sunday up the River

MY love o’er the water bends dreaming;
It glideth and glideth away:
She sees there her own beauty, gleaming
Through shadow and ripple and spray.

O tell her, thou murmuring river,
As past her your light wavelets roll,
How steadfast that image for ever
Shines pure in pure depths of my soul.



Poem Sunday up the River - James Thomson