summer noons
Beautiful river ! which might furnish the English tale-teller with legends wild as those culled on shores licked by Hydaspes , and sweet as those which Cephisus ever blended with the songs of nightingales and the breath of violets ! But what true English poet ever names thee , O Father Thames , without a melodious tribute ? And what child ever whiled away summer noons along thy grassy banks , nor hallowed thy remembrance among the fairy days of life ? Silently Lionel bent over the side of the gliding boat ; his mind carried back to the same soft stream five years ago . How vast a space in his short existence those five years seemed to fill ! And how distant from the young man , rich in the attributes of wealth , armed with each weapon of distinction , seemed the hour when the boy had groaned aloud , '' ` Fortune is so far , Fame so impossible ! ' ''