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.