one they hung
out their lights, the lamps swaying and casting yellow bars over the
quivering water, until in perfect silence all passed down before me.
Each in turn attaining the lower bend where the river sweeps northward,
went about and stood for the Middlesex shore; and then for a moment the
wind seemed to overcome the tide, for before the boat could win new way,
lying almost broadside across the stream, the breeze held her
motionless, like a tired bird on a windy day when it flies out from the
shelter of the wood. It was but for a moment, and then the blunt bows
glided forward towards the north bank, and another barge succeeded in
the gathering gloom.

And so it was until all were passed. The departing light drew the
colours from the red sails and the silvery brightness from the river;
all forms became outlined in black upon what uncertain light remained.
Two men put off in a boat from an anchored ship; the mingled sound of
their oars and voices came with subdued tone as if out of an infinite
distance. Then the whole reach lay bare and silent for a while, and only
the little waves lapping upon the stone steps played an accompaniment to
my dream.

The hour and the place compelled to reverie, and memory consenting to
their evocative charm, I peopled the still scene with the forms of those
who had swayed or shared the fortunes of this land; imperious Elizabeth
and gentler Mary, the slight heroic figure with one sleeve pinned empty
on the breast, and all those who, going down to their business in deep
waters or returning therefrom, have saluted with melancholy or with joy
these towers and this wooded hill. I thought of the lads playing beneath
these trees, and so inbreathing the spirit of this place that for them
there was no career but to follow the river down to ocean, and ocean
himself in his circuit of the world. I thought of the veterans returned
from that quest, old Argonauts of a later day, now clustering round the
Hospital fires and perhaps recalling amid tales of havens and high seas
the very morning when they first dropped round the bend and passed into
the new world beyond. For this Thames is such an avenue and entry into
marvellous life that earth can show no greater rival, none more rich in
dignity or in the multitude of its merchandise. And if the flood of that
merchandise shall cease, and the stream once more go lonely to the sea
or carry coracles, it cannot be again as if it had never borne great
ships