The River Cherwell
Cherwell! how pleased along thy willowed edge Erewhile I strayed, or when the morn began To tinge the distant turret's golden fan, Or evening glimmered o'er the sighing sedge! And now reposing on thy banks once more, I bid the lute farewell, and that sad lay Whose music on my melancholy way I wooed: beneath thy willows waving hoar, Seeking a while to rest, till the bright sun Of joy return; as when Heaven's radiant Bow Beams on the night-storm's passing wings below: Whate'er betide, yet something have I won Of solace, that may bear me on serene, Till eve's last hush shall close the silent scene.
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"Cherwell! how pleased along thy willowed edge..."
William Lisle Bowles's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "The River Cherwell"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...