(an excerpt)

    The chesnuts droop low by the river,
      And shady are Ankerwycke* trees;
    The dragon-flies flash and they quiver
      To somnolent humming of bees!
    But here is a spot of the past time--
      I'm many a mile from the Weir**--
    I'll rest and think over the last time
      I ventured to meditate here.
    O, chesnuts are shady, and golden are sheaves,
    And sweet is the exquisite music of leaves!

This poem is in the public domain.

*An ancient Yew
**A fictional place of respite along the River Thames