I SAW the river going,
All silver to the brim,
Along the southern meadows
That were a home to him.
I sang, “ O River, bear him
My dream, a silver swan.
’T is only he, all day, all day,
That I do think upon.”
And oh, my foolish heart forgot —
So rapt in heart’s desire,
The years he has been sleeping
Beneath a far-off spire.
Josephine Preston Peabody.