Thou hast heard many voices hymning thee,
Who didst awake their purest, earliest strains;
Flowing like mingling rivulets o’er the plains
They water—till they reach the mighty sea
Where time is blended with eternity!
The current of thy years—which age has crown’d
With hoary honours, and ripe harvests round,
Say, may it drink some gentle dews from me
Of grateful song?—I was in childhood young
And artless, when to my dim vision thou
Wert as a saint,—and from thy gentle tongue
I oft have heard such truths, such thoughts, as wrung
Tears of delight from infancy—and now
Round thee affection hath with reverence clung.
(John Bowring)
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Based on Topics: Mind Poems, Time Poems, Eternity Poems, Childhood PoemsBased on Keywords: years-, water-, saint-, infancy-