Winding down its narrow, rugged gorge,
The River roars its thunderous refrain;
And, as it is its destiny to forge,
It draws even more power from the rain.
Ever so strongly, it beckons, it calls;
Ever so loudly, it issues its challenge.
With frothing white water and tumbling falls,
It delivers its message of dreadful revenge.
Marvel at me, it says to mankind;
Travel my pathway, feel my power.
Challenge my waters, see what you find;
Dare to attack me, my life is yours.
You can scorn me, deplore me, but you cannot refuse me;
Admire me, adore me, but please don't misuse me.
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Comments about this poem (The River by Brian Swaine )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
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