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Rivers-Thames: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations

Schuylkill. Alone by the Schuylkill a wanderer rov'd, And bright were its flowery banks to his eye; But far, very far, were the friends that he lov'd, And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh.— MOORE — Lines Written on Leaving

Philadelphia. St. Lawrence. The first time I beheld thee, beauteous stream, How pure, how smooth, how broad thy bosom heav'd! What feelings rush'd upon my heart!-a gleam As of another life my kindling soul received.— MARIA BROOKS — To the River St. Lawrence. St. 1.

Tagus. On, on the vessel flies, the land is gone, And winds are rude, in Biscay's sleepless bay, Four days are sped, but with the fifth, anon, New shores descried make every bosom gay; And Cintra's mountain greets them on their way, And Tagus dashing onward to the deep, His fabled golden tribute bent to pay; And soon on board the Lusian pilots leap, And steer 'twixt fertile shores where yet few rustics reap.— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto I. St. 14,

Teviot. Sweet Teviot! on thy silver tide The glaring bale-fires blaze no more; No longer steel-clad warriors ride Along thy wild and willow'd shore. Scor-Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto IV. St. 1. Thames. There is a hill beside the silver Thames, Shady with birch and beech and odorous pine; And brilliant underfoot with thousand gems, Steeply the thickets to his floods decline.— ROB'T BRIDGES — There is a Hill beside

the Silver Thames. Slow let us trace the matchless vale of Thames; Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt In Twit'nham bowers, and for their Pope implore.— THOMSON — Seasons. Summer. L. 1,425,

Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will. Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!— WORDSWORTH — Sonnet. Composed

upon Westminster Bridge. Tiber. Thou hast fair forms that move With queenly tread; Thou hast proud fanes above Thy mighty dead. Yet wears thy Tiber's shore A mournful mien :- Rome, Rome, thou art no more As thou hast been.— Mrs. HEMANS — Roman Girl's. Song.