Skip to content

William Blake

Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?

Or wilt thou go ask the Mole:

Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?

Or Love in a golden bowl?

Read full poem →

noun

One who, or that which, accelerates.

Know more →

494. Song—Farewell thou stream that winding flows

24 lines
Robert Burns·1759–1796·Romanticism
AREWELL, thou stream that winding flows Around Eliza’s dwelling;O mem’ry! spare the cruel thoes Within my bosom swelling.Condemn’d to drag a hopeless chain And yet in secret languish;To feel a fire in every vein, Nor dare disclose my anguish.  Love’s veriest wretch, unseen, unknown, I fain my griefs would cover;The bursting sigh, th’ unweeting groan, Betray the hapless lover.I know thou doom’st me to despair, Nor wilt, nor canst relieve me;But, O Eliza, hear one prayer— For pity’s sake forgive me!  The music of thy voice I heard, Nor wist while it enslav’d me;I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear’d, Till fears no more had sav’d me:Th’ unwary sailor thus, aghast The wheeling torrent viewing,’Mid circling horrors sinks at last, In overwhelming ruin.