To The River

Edgar Allan Poe

Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow
  Of crystal, wandering water,
Thou art an emblem of the glow
      Of beauty—the unhidden heart—
      The playful maziness of art
  In old Alberto’s daughter;

But when within thy wave she looks—
  Which glistens then, and trembles—
Why, then, the prettiest of brooks
  Her worshipper resembles;
For in his heart, as in thy stream,
  Her image deeply lies—
His heart which trembles at the beam
  Of her soul-searching eyes.

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