Classic Poem

Addressed to Mrs. —

What various tributary tides
Flow downward to the C!
How many a bark in Erin glides
Along the silent D!

The Y in Cambria, as it flows,
What furious eddies vex!
In Devon, emblem of repose,
How tranquil winds the X!

The Tiber, hymn'd, when Rhome was free,
By many a bard of old,
Hides many a marble F E G
Beneath its sands of gold.

The Thames, upon a rainy day,
Seem'd muddy to the view,
As late I stood upon the K,
And fish'd in it at Q.

Nor tides alone — but you who go
To Jame's and to Howell's,
Possess the qualities that flow
From consonants and vowels.

Though beauty (got I know not whence)
In you applauding men see,
'Tis to good humour and good sense
U O your X L N C!