Explore "To the Avon" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Flow on, sweet river! like his verse / Who lies beneath this sculptured hearse / Nor wait beside the churchyard wall / For him who cannot hear thy call.
Thy playmate once; I see him now / A boy with sunshine on his brow, / And hear in Stratford's quiet street / The patter of his little feet.
I see him by thy shallow edge / Wading knee-deep amid the sedge; / And lost in thought, as if thy stream / Were the swift river of a dream.
He wonders whitherward it flows; / And fain would follow where it goes, / To the wide world, that shall erelong / Be filled with his melodious song.
Flow on, fair stream! That dream is o'er; / He stands upon another shore; / A vaster river near him flows, / And still he follows where it goes.