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Upon whose gloomy banks I've longed[1]
To find my silent grave.
The Water! the Water!
Oh bless'd to me thou art;
Thus sounding in life's solitude,
The music of my heart,
And filling it, despite of sadness,
With dreamings of departed gladness.
The Water! the Water!
The mournful pensive tone,
That whispered to my heart how soon
This weary life was done.
The Water! the Water!
That rolled so bright and free,
And bade me mark how beautiful
Was its soul's purity;
And how it glanced to heaven its wave,
As wandering on it sought its grave.
- ↑ Upon whose broomy banks I've longed.—MS. copy.
