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1838–1905

ON THE BLUFF.

John Hay

O grandly flowing River! O silver-gliding River! Thy springing willows shiver In the sunset as of old;

They shiver in the silence Of the willow-whitened islands, While the sun-bars and the sand-bars Fill air and wave with gold.

O gay, oblivious River! O sunset-kindled River! Do you remember ever The eyes and skies so blue

On a summer day that shone here, When we were all alone here, And the blue eyes were too wise To speak the love they knew?

O stern, impassive River! O still, unanswering River! The shivering willows quiver As the night-winds moan and rave.

From the past a voice is calling, From heaven a star is falling, And dew swells in the bluebells Above her hillside grave.

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ON THE BLUFF. · John Hay · Poetry Cove