V.

O gleaming, gliding river,

Where ash and alder lean,

Where sighing sedges shiver

By willows gray and green;

Upon thy shifting shadows

The yellow lily lies,

And all along thy meadows

Grow flowers of Paradise.

The red-roofed village sleeping,

Soft sounds of farm and fold,

The dappled shadows creeping,

The sunset's rose and gold,

Twilight of mist and glamour,

Noontide of sunlit ease,

How,‘ mid life's sordid clamour,

Our hearts will long for these!

Yet, since at heart we treasure

These weirs and woods and fields,

This crown of lovely leisure

Which Kentish country yields —

These, these are ours for ever,

Though dream-sweet days be done;

Through all our dreams our river

Will evermore flow on.