Matthew Arnold - Faded Leaves: The River lyrics

Still glides the stream, slow drops the boat Under the rustling poplars' shade; Silent the swans beside us float— None speaks, none heeds; ah, turn thy head! Let those arch eyes now softly shine, That mocking mouth grow sweetly bland; Ah, let them rest, those eyes, on mine! On mine let rest that lovely hand! My pent-up tears oppress my brain, My heart is swoln with love unsaid. Ah, let me weep, and tell my pain, And on thy shoulder rest my head! Before I die—before the soul, Which now is mine, must re-attain Immunity from my control, And wander round the world again; Before this teased o'erlabour'd heart For ever leaves its vain employ, Dead to its deep habitual smart, And dead to hopes of future joy.