James Kenneth Stephen (Джеймс Кеннет Стивен)
Steam-Launches on the Thames
Henley, June 7, 1891. Shall we, to whom the stream by right belongs, Who travel silent, save, perchance, for songs; Whose track's a ripple,—leaves the Thames a lake, Nor frights the swan—scarce makes the rushes shake; Who harmonize, exemplify, complete And vivify a scene already sweet: Who travel careless on, from lock to lock, Oblivious that the world contains a clock, With pace commensurate to our desires, Propelled by other force than Stygian fire's; Shall we be driven hence to leave a place For these, who bring upon our stream disgrace: The rush, the roar, the stench, the smoke, the steam, The nightmare striking through our heavenly dream; The scream as shrill and hateful to the ear As when a peacock vents his rage and fear; Which churn to fury all a glassy reach, And heave rude breakers on a pebbly beach: Which half o'erwhelm with waves our frailer craft, While graceless shop-boys chuckle fore and aft: Foul water-toadstools, noisome filth-stained shapes, Fit only to be manned by dogs and apes: Blots upon nature: scars that mar her smile: Obscene, obtrusive, execrable, vile?
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