THE old Catholic City was still, In the Minster the vespers were sung, And, re-echoed in cadences shrill, The last call of the trumpet had rung; While, across the broad stream of the Rhine, The full Moon cast a silvery zone; And, methought, as I gazed on its shine, "Surely that is the Eau de Cologne." I inquired not the place of its source, If it ran to the east or the west; But my heart took a note of its course, That it flow'd towards Her I love best -- That it flow'd towards Her I love best, Like those wandering thoughts of my own, And the fancy such sweetness possess'd, That the Rhine seemed all Eau de Cologne! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARAGRAPHS: 16 by HAYDEN CARRUTH HYBRIDS OF WAR: A MORALITY POEM: 4. THE MORAL by KAREN SWENSON LONDON SNOW by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES BETH GELERT; OR, THE GRAVE OF THE GREYHOUND by WILLIAM ROBERT SPENCER THE MITHERLESS BAIRN by WILLIAM THOM THE ROSE'S MESSAGE by MARY WINCHESTER ABBOTT LOVE AND TIME by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE LAST MAN: INSIGNIFICANCE OF THE WORLD by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |