River Thames Quotes

“Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.”

“The silver Thames takes some part of this county in its journey to Oxford.”

“Wikipedia: River Thames”

“I have seen the Mississippi. That is muddy water. I have seen the St Lawrence. That is crystal water. But the Thames is liquid history.”

“Say, Father Thames, whose gentle pace
Gives leave to view what beauties grace
Your flowery banks, if you have seen
The much-sung Grotto of the queen.”

“Thames! the most loved of all the Ocean’s sons,
By his old sire, to his embraces runs,
Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea,
Like mortal life to meet eternity.”

“Twenty bridges from Tower to Kew—
(Twenty Bridges or twenty-two)—
Wanted to know what the River knew,
For they were young, and the Thames was old
And this is the tale that the River told...”

“Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen
  Full many a sprightly race
Disporting on thy margin green
  The paths of pleasure trace;
Who foremost now delight to cleave
With pliant arm thy glassy wave?”

“Old Thames! thy merry waters run
Gloomily now, without star or sun!
The wind blows o’er thee, wild and loud,
And heaven is in its death-black shroud;
And the rain comes down with all its might,
Darkening the face of the sullen Night.”

“O, clear are England’s waters all, her rivers, streams, and rills,
Flowing stilly through her valleys lone and winding by her hills;
But river, stream, or rivulet through all her breadth who names
For beauty and for pleasantness with our own pleasant Thames.”

“The Thames! the mighty Thames!
They say the mountain child
Oft loves its torrent wild
So well, that should he part
He breaks his pining heart;
He grieves with smothered sighs
Till his wearying spirit dies;
And so I yearn to thee,
Thou river of the free,
My own, my native Thames!”

“As I have seene when on the breast of Thames
A heavenly beauty of sweet English Dames,
In some calme Ev’ning of delightfull May,
With Musick give a farewell to the day,
Or as they would (with an admired tone)
Greet Nights ascension to her Eben Throne,
Rapt with their melodie, a thousand more
Run to be wafted from the bounding shore.”

“May all clean nimphs and curious water dames
With swan-like state flote up and down thy streams:
No drought upon thy wanton waters fall
To make them leane, and languishing at all:
No ruffling winds come hither to discease
Thy pure and silver-wristed Naides.
Keep up your state, ye streams; and as ye spring,
Never make sick your banks by surfeiting.
Grow young with tydes, and though I see ye never,
Receive this vow, so fare ye well for ever.”

“Because of the Thames I have always loved inland waterways—water in general, water sounds—there's music in water. Brooks babbling, fountains splashing. Weirs, waterfalls; tumbling, gushing. Whenever I think of my birthplace, Walton-on-Thames, my reference first and foremost is the river. I love the smell of the river; love its history, its gentleness. I was aware of its presence from my earliest years. Its majesty centered me, calmed me, was a solace to a certain extent.”

“An omnibus across the bridge
  Crawls like a yellow butterfly,
  And, here and there, a passer-by
Shows like a little restless midge.Big barges full of yellow hay
  Are moored against the shadowy wharf,
  And, like a yellow silken scarf,
The thick fog hangs along the quay.The yellow leaves begin to fade
  And flutter from the Temple elms,
  And at my feet the pale green Thames
Lies like a rod of rippled jade.”

“I dearly love this London, this royal northern London,
And am up in all its history, to Brutus and to Lud;
But I wish that certain Puritan simplicities were undone,
That the houses had more gable-ends, and the river less of mud.
* * * * *
But our river still is beautiful, rejoicing in the quaintest
Old corners for a painter (till the new quays are begun).
See there the line of distant hills, and where the blue is faintest,
The brown sails of the barges lie slanting in the sun.”

“Where Thames along the daisied meads
His wave in lucid mazes leads,
Silent, slow, serenely flowing,
Wealth on either side bestowing,
There in a safe though small retreat,
Content and Love have fixed their seat,—
Love, that counts his duty pleasure;
Content, that knows and hugs his treasure.From art, from jealousy secure,
As faith unblamed, as friendship pure,
Vain opinion nobly scorning,
Virtue aiding, life adorning,
Fair Thames along thy flowery side,
May thou whom truth and reason guide
All their tender hours improving,
Live like us, beloved and loving.”

“Then commerce brought into the public walk
The busy merchant; the big warehouse built;
Raised the strong crane; choked up the loaded street
With foreign plenty; and thy stream, O Thames,
Large, gentle, deep, majestic, king of floods!
Chose for his grand resort. On either hand,
Like a long wintry forest, groves of masts
Shot up their spires; the bellying sheet between
Possessed the breezy void; the sooty hulk
Steered sluggish on; the splendid barge along
Rowed, regular, to harmony; around,
The boat, light skimming, stretched its oary wings;
While deep the various voice of fervent toil
From bank to bank increased.”

“Thou who shalt stop where Thames’ translucent wave
Shines a broad mirror through the shadowy cave,
Where lingering drops from mineral roofs distil,
And pointed crystals break the sparkling rill,
Unpolished gems no ray on pride bestow,
And latent metals innocently glow:
Approach. Great nature studiously behold!
And eye the mine without a wish for gold.
Approach: but aweful! Lo the Egerian grott,
Where, nobly-pensive, St. John sate and thought;
Where British sighs from dying Wyndham stole,
And the bright flame was shot through Marchmont’s soul.
Let such, such only, tread the sacred floor,
Who dare to love their country, and be poor.”

“Thou too, great father of the British floods!
With joyful pride survey’st our lofty woods;
Where towering oaks their growing honors rear,
And future navies on thy shores appear.
Not Neptune’s self from all her streams receives
A wealthier tribute than to thine he gives.
No seas so rich, so gay no banks appear,
No lake so gentle, and no spring so clear.
Nor Po so swells the fabling poet’s lays,
While led along the skies his current strays,
As thine, which visits Windsor’s famed abodes,
To grace the mansion of our earthly gods:
Nor all his stars above a lustre show,
Like the bright beauties on thy banks below;
Where Jove, subdued by mortal passion still,
Might change Olympus for a nobler hill.”