Great poetry of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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To the River Derwent by William Wordsworth

Among the mountains were we nursed, loved Stream

Thou near the eagle’s nest, within brief sail,

I, of his bold wing floating on the gale,

Where thy deep voice could lull me! Faint the beam

Of human life when first allowed to gleam

On mortal notice. Glory of the vale,

Such thy meek outset, with a crown, though frail,

Kept in perpetual verdure by the steam

Of thy soft breath! Less vivid wreath entwined

Nemaean victor’s brow; less bright was worn,

Meed of some Roman chief, in triumph borne

With captives chained; and shedding from his car

The sunset splendours of a finished war

Upon the proud enslavers of mankind!

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