William Lisle Bowles

  • “Come to these scenes of peace”

    Come to these scenes of peace,
    Where, to rivers murmuring,
    The sweet birds all the summer sing,
    Where cares and toil and sadness cease!
    Stranger, does thy heart deplore
    Friends whom thou wilt see no more?
    Does thy wounded spirit prove
    Pangs...

  • On the Rhine

    ’t Was morn, and beautiful the mountain’s brow—
    Hung with the clusters of the bending vine—
    Shone in the early light, when on the Rhine
    We sailed and heard the waters round the prow
    In murmurs parting; varying as we go,
    Rocks after rocks come forward and...