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Mary Darby Robinson - Lines Written by the Side of a River
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FLOW soft RIVER, gently stray, 
  Still a silent waving tide 
  O`er thy glitt`ring carpet glide, 
While I chaunt my ROUNDELAY, 
As I gather from thy bank, 
Shelter`d by the poplar dank, 
King-cups, deck`d in golden pride, 
Harebells sweet, and daisies pied; 
While beneath the evening sky, 
Soft the western breezes fly. 
Gentle RIVER, should`st thou be 
Touch`d with mournful sympathy, 
  When reflection tells my soul, 
Winter`s icy breath shall quell
Thy sweet bosom`s graceful swell, 
  And thy dimpling course controul; 
  Should a crystal tear of mine, 
Fall upon thy lucid breast, 
Oh receive the trembling guest, 
  For `tis PITY`S drop divine! 

  GENTLE ZEPHYR, softly play,
Shake thy dewy wings around,
Sprinkle odours o`er the ground,
  While I chaunt my ROUNDELAY. 
While the woodbine`s mingling shade, 
Veils my pensive, drooping head;
  Fan, oh fan, the busy gale,
That rudely wantons round my cheek,
Where the tear of suff`rance meek,
  Glitters on the LILY pale: 
Ah! no more the damask ROSE, 
There in crimson lustre glows; 
Thirsty fevers from my lip 
Dare the ruddy drops to sip; 
Deep within my burning heart, 
Sorrow plants an icy dart; 
From whose point the soft tears flow, 
Melting in the vivid glow; 
Gentle Zephyr, should`st thou be 
Touch`d with tender sympathy; 
When reflection calls to mind, 
The bleak and desolating wind, 
That soon thy silken wing shall tear, 
And waft it on the freezing air; 
Zephyr, should a tender sigh 
To thy balmy bosom fly, 
Oh! receive the flutt`ring thing, 
Place it on thy filmy wing, 
Bear it to its native sky, 
For `tis PITY`S softest sigh. 


  O`er the golden lids of day 
Steals a veil of sober grey; 
Now the flow`rets sink to rest, 
On the moist earth`s glitt`ring breast; 
Homeward now I`ll bend my way, 
AND CHAUNT MY PLAINTIVE ROUNDELAY.
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