Classic Poem

Ethel in her crimson row boat,
Floats amid the river reeds;
Dreaming dreams of nameless longing,
Little she the gloaming heeds.

Castles grand and rare in beauty
Rise on pinnacles of air;
Knights on royal steeds salute her,
And she listens to their prayer.

One with winning speech draws near her,
May not brook a long delay;
So she bows her head in answer,
For she cannot say him nay.

Bows her head, — ah, yes! fair Ethel!
Now thy golden locks are caught
In the pliant river rushes,
And the knight whose pleading sought

Thee to capture, is a phantom.
Where the castles in the air?
Faded in the misty gloaming,
With the love that thine would share.

Hasten home! sweet fairy Ethel,
To the cottage in the lane;
Surely when the years have vanished,
Knight and love will come again.