When old Canute the Dane Was Merry England's king; A thousand years agone, and more, As ancient rumours sing; His boat was rowing down the Ouse, At eve, one summer day, Where Ely's tall cathedral peered Above the glassy way. Anon, sweet music on his ear Comes floating from the fane, And listening, as with all his soul, Sat old Canute the Dane; And reverently did he doff his crown To join the clerkly prayer, While swelled old lauds and litanies Upon the stilly air. Now, who shall glide on Hudson's breast At eve of summer's day, And cometh where St. Peter's tower Peers o'er his coasting way; A moment let him slack his oar And speed more still along, His ear shall catch those very notes Of litany and song. The Church that sang those anthem prayers A thousand years ago, Is singing yet by silver Cam, And here by Hudson's flow: And glorias that thrilled the heart Of old Canute the Dane Are rising yet, at noon and eve, From Chelsea's student train. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BY THE POTOMAC by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SESTINA: ALTAFORTE by EZRA POUND DRINKING SONG, FR. THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL by RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN ANECDOTE OF THE JAR by WALLACE STEVENS WEIGHTS AND MEASURES, BY OUR OWN TOM DALY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 76. YA WALI by EDWIN ARNOLD EPITAPH ON THE SECRETARY TO THE MUSES by JANE BARKER |