Along the stream to Eynsham ; The guelder bloom and
flower o' May And marguerites and elder-spray, Made either bank a milky way From Bablock Hythe to Eynsham.
Fast anchored 'neath the wild-rose bowers, Like lovely thoughts transformed to flowers The lilies dreamed away the hours From Bablock Hythe to Eynsham ; And youthful yet, and lately bound On his adventure, he has found, Our pilgrim Thames, a holy ground 'Twist Bablock Hythe and Eynsham.
Yet does he know, the while he threads His curving course through golden meads, The savage wave to which he leads At last, at last, from Eynsham ?
Sun and sweet air; the harmony
Of Earth and June ! It seemed to me A dream of all that Youth should be, My water-way to Eynsham.
But alt, how brief that magic spell,
True type of youth ! Bright streams, farewell.
Alas ! we may not always dwell 'Twist Bablock Hythe and Eynsham.
ST. JOHN LUCAS.
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