Kotri By The River

At Kotri, by the river, when the evening’s sun is low,

The waving palm trees quiver, the golden waters glow,

The shining ripples shiver, descending to the sea;

At Kotri, by the river, she used to wait for me.

So young, she was, and slender, so pale with wistful eyes

As luminous and tender as Kotri’s twilight skies.

Her face broke into flowers, red flowers at the mouth,

Her voice,–she sang for hours like bulbuls in the south.

We sat beside the water through burning summer days,

And many things I taught her of Life and all its ways

Of Love, man’s loveliest duty, of Passion’s reckless pain,

Of Youth, whose transient beauty comes once, but not again.

She lay and laughed and listened beside the water’s edge.

The glancing rirer glistened and glinted through the sedge.

Green parrots flew above her and, as the daylight died,

Her young arms drew her lover more closely to her side.

Oh days so warm and golden! oh nights so cool and still!

When Love would not be holden, and Pleasure had his will.

Days, when in after leisure, content to rest we lay,

Nights, when her lips’ soft pressure drained all my life away.

And while we sat together, beneath the Babul trees,

The fragrant, sultry weather cooled by the river breeze,

If passion faltered ever, and left the senses free,

We heard the tireless river decending to the sea.

I know not where she wandered, or went in after days,

Or if her youth she squandered in Love’s more doubtful ways.

Perhaps, beside the river, she died, still young and fair;

Perchance the grasses quiver above her slumber there.

At Kotri, by the river, maybe I too shall sleep

The sleep that lasts for ever, too deep for dreams; too deep.

Maybe among the shingle and sand of floods to be

Her dust and mine may mingle and float away to sea.

Ah Kotri, by the river, when evening’s sun is low,

Your faint reflections quiver, your golden ripples glow.

You knew, oh Kotri river, that love which could not last.

For me your palms still shiver with passions of the past.

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• From Milton: And did those feet by William Blake by William Blake
• Blind Man’s Buff by William Blake by William Blake
• XVI: Some Verses: Of Conquerouris by William Alexander by William Alexander
• XV: Some Verses: Ciprian’s Smyling by William Alexander by William Alexander
• XIV: Some Verses: To Mr. Edward Allane by William Alexander by William Alexander
• XIII: Some Verses: On A Report On The Death Of The Author by William Alexander by William Alexander
• A Slumber did my Spirit Seal by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Sketch by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Poet’s Epitaph by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Poet! He Hath Put His Heart To School by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Parsonage In Oxfordshire by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Morning Exercise by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Jewish Family In A Small Valley Opposite St. Goar, Upon The Rhine by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Gravestone Upon The Floor In The Cloisters Of Worcester Cathedral by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Fact, And An Imagination, Or, Canute And Alfred, On The Seashore by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Complaint by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• XII: Some Verses: Sonnet, To The Authour by William Alexander by William Alexander
• XI: Some Verses: To His Worthy Friend Master Walter Quin by William Alexander by William Alexander
• X: Some Verses: To His Most Affectionate Friend Mr. Lithgow by William Alexander by William Alexander
• VII: Some Verses: On The Death of John Murray by William Alexander by William Alexander

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