The Hudson

Where in its old historic splendor stands The home of England’s far-farmed 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-entwined 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 water’s 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.

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