Henley, June 7, 1891. <br /> <br />Shall we, to whom the stream by right belongs, <br />Who travel silent, save, perchance, for songs; <br />Whose track's a ripple,--leaves the Thames a lake, <br />Nor frights the swan--scarce makes the rushes shake; <br />Who harmonize, exemplify, complete <br />And vivify a scene already sweet: <br />Who travel careless on, from lock to lock, <br />Oblivious that the world contains a clock, <br />With pace commensurate to our desires, <br />Propelled by other force than Stygian fire's; <br />Shall we be driven hence to leave a place <br />For these, who bring upon our stream disgrace: <br />The rush, the roar, the stench, the smoke, the steam, <br />The nightmare striking through our heavenly dream; <br />The scream as shrill and hateful to the ear <br />As when a peacock vents his rage and fear; <br />Which churn to fury all a glassy reach, <br />And heave rude breakers on a pebbly beach: <br />Which half o'erwhelm with waves our frailer craft, <br />While graceless shop-boys chuckle fore and aft: <br />Foul water-toadstools, noisome filth-stained shapes, <br />Fit only to be manned by dogs and apes: <br />Blots upon nature: scars that mar her smile: <br />Obscene, obtrusive, execrable, vile?<br /><br />James Kenneth Stephen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/steam-launches-on-the-thames/
