But Thou, exulting and abounding river!
Making thy waves a blessing as they flow
Through banks whose beauty would endure for ever
Could man but leave thy bright creation so,
Nor its fair promise from the surface mow[il]
With the sharp scythe of conflict, then to see
Thy valley of sweet waters, were to know[302]
Earth paved like Heaven—and to seem such to me,[im]
Even now what wants thy stream?—that it should Lethe be.