Robert Bridges

Clear and gentle stream ! 

Known and loved so long, 

That hast heard the song, 

And the idle dream 

Of my boyish day ; 

While I once again 

Down thy margin stray, 

In the selfsame strain 

Still my voice is spent, 

With my old lament, 

And my idle dream, 

Clear and gentle stream! 

Where my old seat was 

Here again I sit, 

Where the long boughs knit 

Over stream and grass 

A translucent eaves: 

Where back eddies play 

Shipwreck with the leaves, 

And the proud swans stray, 

Sailing one by one 

Out of stream and sun, 

And the fish lie cool 

In their chosen pool. 

Many an afternoon 

Of the summer day 

Dreaming here I lay; 

And I know how soon, 

Idly at its hour, 

First the deep bell hums 

From the minster tower, 

And then evening comes, 

Creeping up the glade, 

With her lengthening shade, 

And the tardy boon, 

Of her brightening moon. 

Clear and gentle stream ! 

Ere again I go 

Where thou dost not flow, 

Well does it beseem 

Thee to hear again 

Once my youthful song, 

That familiar strain 

Silent now so long : 

Be as I content 

With my old lament, 

And my idle dream, 

Clear and gentle stream!