Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.
The Ebb-Tide
By Robert Southey (17741843)S
Came in, old Avon! Scarcely did mine eyes,
As watchfully I roamed thy greenwood-side,
Perceive its gentle rise.
The laboring boatmen upward plied their oars;
Yet little way they made, though laboring long
Between thy winding shores.
The unlabored boat falls rapidly along;
The solitary helmsman sits to guide,
And sings an idle song.
So silent late, the shallow current roars;
Fast flow thy waters on their seaward way,
Through wider-spreading shores.
The lesson emblemed in thy varying way:
It speaks of human joys that rise so slow,
So rapidly decay.
And slow to strength and power attained at last,
Thus from the summit of high Fortune’s flood
They ebb to ruin fast.
Time’s tardy course to manhood’s envied stage;
Alas! how hurryingly the ebbing years
Then hasten to old age!