"Thames, infant Thames, Rippling, flowing Water-white, Where the bright Young wilding gems Are blowing; Babbling ever in unrest, While as o’er her darling’s pillow Bends the mother, so the willow O’er thy breast.Thames, maiden Thames, Glancing, shining Silver-blue; While for you The lilied stems Are pining. Ah! thou lovest best to play Slily with the wanton swallow, While he whispers thee to follow Him away.Thames, matron Thames, That ebbest back From the sea; Oh! in thee There are emblems Of life’s track: We, too, would, like thee, regain, If we might, our greener hours; We, too, mourn our vanished flowers, But in vain."