The Hero

I saw the river going,
All silver to the brim,
Along the southern meadows
That were a home to him.

I sang, ‘O River, bear him
My dream, a silver swan.
’Tis only he, all day, all day,
That I do think upon.’

And oh, my foolish heart forgot,
So rapt in heart’s desire,
The years he has been sleeping,
Beneath a far-off spire.