COLERIDGE

THINE is the mystic melody,

The far-off murmur of some dreamland sea
Lifting throughout the night,
Up to the moon's mild light,
Waves silver-lustrous, silvery-white,

That beat in rhythm on the shadowy shore,
And burst in music, and are seen no more.

THE HUDSON

WHERE in its old historic splendor stands The home of England's far-famed Parliament,

And waters of the Thames in calm content

At England's fame flow slowly o'er their sands;

And where the Rhine past vine-entwinëd lands

Courses in castled beauty, there I went;
And far to Southern rivers, flower-besprent;
And to the icy streams of Northern strands.
Then mine own native shores I trod once
more,

And, gazing on thy waters' majesty,
The memory, O Hudson, came to me

Of one who went to seek the wide world o'er

For Love, but found it not. Then home turned he

And saw his mother waiting at the door.