L.

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.