BAB-LOCK-HYTHE

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 77, 22 June 1927, Page 14

BAB-LOCK-HYTHE

In the time of wild roses As up Thames we travelled, Where ’mid water-weeds ravelled The lily uncloses, To his old shores the river A new song was singing, And young shoots were springing On old roots for ever. Dog daisies were dancing, And flags flamed in cluster, On the dark stream a lustre Now blurred and now glancing. A tall reed down-weighing The sedge-warbler fluttered; One sweet note he uttered, Then left it soft-swaying. By the bank’s sandy hollow My dipt oars went beating, And past our bows fleeting Blue-backed shone the swallow. High woods, heron-haunted, Rose, changed, as we rounded Old hills greenly mounded, To meadows enchanted. A dream ever moulded Afresh for our wonder, Still opening asunder For the stream many-folded; Till sunset was rimming The west with pale flushes; Behind the black rushes The last light was dimming; And the lonely stream, hiding Shy birds, grew more lonely, And with us was only The noise of our gliding. In cloud of grey weather The evening o’erdarkened, In the stillness we harkened Our hearts sang together. —Laurence Binyon,