OH hist, and say
Did you ever stray
To the western shores of the Isle of Wight?
And view the wave
Fantastic lave
The rocks that are there to a wondrous height?
But chiefly one
Of an arched form,
Through which they rush in a gathering storm:
Then tell me what
Men call the spot,
Once known, I am sure ’twill ne’er be forgot.
Oh, tell me true,
Did you ever view
The mountain of the Cevennes in France?
And see below,
The waters flow,
Which you trace to their source if you upward glance
But chief declare
One river there,
Which thence proceeds to Beziers;
And but eight miles
Below its walls
Into the gulf of Lyons falls.
Now ponder awhile,
And, void of guile,
Tell if you ever have wandered in Spain,
And seen a flood,
In its stately mood,
Wat’ring a most magnificent plain.
The spot where rises
This river renown’d,
Is near to Medina Celi found:
And with graceful flow,
Its duty done,
Into the Ebro it hastes to run.
These rivers and bay
Will help you to say
What was the name of a statesman belov’d,
Whose genius renown’d
Shed a lustre around
Th’ illustrious circle in which he once moved
His talents adorned
His eminent state,
And Britannia mourned his hapless fate;
While over his bier
She dropt a tear,
And lamented his loss with anguish sincere.
(Elizabeth Hitchener)
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Based on Topics: Name Poems, Fate & Destiny Poems, Running Poems, Sincerity PoemsBased on Keywords: lyons, ebro, medina, beziers, celi