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Then I saw the Congo, creeping through the black,
Cutting through the jungle with a golden track.
Then I saw the Congo, creeping through the black,
Cutting through the jungle with a golden track.
And see the rivers how they run
Through woods and meads, in shade and sun,
Sometimes swift, read more
And see the rivers how they run
Through woods and meads, in shade and sun,
Sometimes swift, sometimes slow,--
Wave succeeding wave, they go
A various journey to the deep,
Like human life to endless sleep!
How sweet to move at summer's eve
By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen read more
How sweet to move at summer's eve
By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen to leave
The earth with crimson beam;
When islands that wandered far
Above his sea couch lie,
And here and there some gem-like star
Re-opes its sparkling eye.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through
it. The river was cut by the world's read more
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through
it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over
rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are
timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of
the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.
How bright the sunshine dances in its joy,
O'er the still flow of this majestic river!
How bright the sunshine dances in its joy,
O'er the still flow of this majestic river!
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
Where Alph, the sacred river ran,
read more
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
Where Alph, the sacred river ran,
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,
Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever.
Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,
Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever.
Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those.
The bursting tears read more
Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those.
The bursting tears my heart declare;
Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr.
At last the Muses rose, . . . And scattered, . . . as they flew,
Their blooming wreaths read more
At last the Muses rose, . . . And scattered, . . . as they flew,
Their blooming wreaths from fair Valclusa's bowers
To Arno's myrtle border.