Stratford-On-Avon Poem by John William Inchbold

Just as of old sweet Avon winds its way,
Embracing yellow corn and meadow land,
The harvest moon makes night a sweeter day,
Just as of old on Shakespeare's brow and hand,
The willows droop upon the river's breast,
The silvern swan is in its loveliest dream,
An image beautiful of twofold rest;—
O mellow sky, and moon, and stars, and stream!
All nature's spirit, free as song of bird!
Send now sweet love upon the fruitful earth,
And let the exulting song far off be heard
Of love's wide melody and purest mirth,
Until the gentle conquest be complete,
And Death, and Sorrow are in full retreat.