Classic Poem

C HERWELL , if ever on thy willowy shore
Ling'ring I gaz'd with more than vulgar eyes,
And sooth'd my sorrows with the joys, that rise
From various Nature's ever-smiling store:
If e'er by thee I mus'd on ancient lore,
Or what prond Thames or winding Seine supplies,
Or Arno blest with pure cerulean skies,
Or Guadalquivir stain'd with Moorish gore;
Now, as returning from a round of cares
Once more I come to join thy pensive train,
Revive my soul with soft and balmy airs,
As first in life's fair spring, secure from pain.
Ah me! if here my bleeding bosom bears
Its wonted load, and seeks sweet peace in vain.