Yet be genial airs, and a pleasant sunshine left me,
Leaf, and fruit, and blossom, to mark the closing year.
The Night Journey of a River.
O darkling River! Through the night I hear
Thy wavelets rippling on the pebbly beach;
I hear thy current stir the rustling sedge
That skirts thy bed; thou intermittest not
Thine everlasting journey, drawing on
A silvery train from many a woodland spring