Around and around
Collecting, disjecting,
With endless rebound;
Smiting and fighting,

A sight to delight in,

Confounding, astounding,

Dizzing and deafening the ear with its sound.

Reeding and speeding

And shocking and rocking

And darting and parting

And threading and spreading
And whizzing and hissing
And dripping and skipping
And whitening and brightening
And quivering and shivering
And hitting and splitting

And shining and twining

And rattling and battling
And shaking and quaking
And pouring and roaring
And waving and raving
And tossing and crossing
And flowing and growing
And running and stunning,
And hurrying and skurrying
And glittering and frittering;
And gathering and feathering
And dinning and spinning
And foaming and roaming

And dropping and hopping
And working and jerking
And heaving and cleaving

And thundering and floundering;
And falling and crawling and sprawling
And driving and rising and striving

And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling
And sounding and bounding and rounding
And bubbling and troubling and doubling
Dividing and gliding and sliding

And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling
And clattering and battering and shattering

And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming
And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing
And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping
And curling and whirling and purling and twirling
Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting
Delaying and straying and playing and spraying
Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing
Recoiling, turmoiling, and toiling and boiling

And thumping and flumping and bumping and jumping
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions for ever and ever are blending
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar.
And this way the water comes down at Lodore!

SOUTHEY.

XLIII

THE SONG OF THE BRAVE MAN.

High sounds the song of the valiant man,
Like clang of bells and organ-tone.
Him whose high soul brave thoughts control
Not gold rewards, but song alone;
Thank Heaven for song and praise, that I can
Thus sing and praise the valiant man!

The thaw-wind came from the southern sea
Heavy and damp, through Italy,

And the clouds before it away did flee,

Like frightened herds, when the wolf they see. It sweeps the fields, through the forest breaks, And the ice bursts away on streams and lakes.

On mountain-top dissolved the snow;

The falls with a thousand waters dashed; A lake did o'erflow the meadow low,

And the mighty river swelled and splashed. Along their channel the waves rolled high, And heavily rolled the ice-cakes by.

On heavy piers and arches strong,

Below and above of massive stone,
A bridge stretched wide across the tide,
And midway stood a house thereon.

There dwelt the tollman, with child and wife ;
O tollman! tollman! flee, for thy life!

And it groaned and droned, and around the house Howled storm and wind with a dismal sound; And the tollman aloof sprang forth on the roof, And gazed on the tumult around:

"O merciful Heaven! thy mercy show!

Lost, lost, and forlorn! who shall rescue me now?"

Thump! thump! the heavy ice-cakes rolled,

And piled on either shore they lay ;
From either shore the wild waves tore
The arches with their piers away.

The trembling tollman, with wife and child,
He howled still louder than storm-winds wild.

Thump! thump! the heavy ice-cakes rolled,
And piled at either end they lay;

All rent and dashed, the stone piers crashed,
As one by one they shot away.
To the middle approaches the overthrow!
O merciful Heaven! thy mercy show!

High on the distant bank there stands

A crowd of peasants great and small;
Each shrieking stands, and wrings his hands,
But there's none to save among them all.
The trembling tollman, with wife and child,
For rescue howls through the storm-winds wild.

Swift galloped a count forth from the crowd,
On a gallant steed, a count full bold.
In his hand so free what holdeth he?

It is a purse stuffed full of gold.

"Two hundred pistoles to him who shall save Those poor folks from death and a watery grave!'

Who is the brave man? Is it the count?

Say on, my noble song, say on!

By Him who can save! the count was brave,
And yet do I know a braver one.

O brave man! brave man! say, where art thou?
Fearfully the ruin approaches now!

And ever higher swelled the flood,

And ever louder roared the blast,

And ever deeper sank the heart of the keeper ;-
Preserver! preserver! speed thee fast!

And as pier after pier gave way in the swell,
Loud cracked and dashed the arch as it fell.

"Halloo! halloo ! to the rescue speed! Aloft the count his purse doth wave; And each one hears, and each one fears;

From thousands none steps forth to save. In vain doth the tollman, with wife and child, For rescue howl through the storm-winds wild.

See, stout and strong, a peasant man,

With staff in hand, comes wandering by,

A kirtle of gray his limbs array;

In form and feature, stern and high,