THE BROOK. (TENNYSON.) ITH many a curve my banks I fret With willow-weed and mallow. I flip, I flide, I gleam, I glance, I mark the netted funbeams dance Against my fandy fhallows. RIVULUS. REQUENTIORI murmure It unda noftra curfitans Per arva perque valles, Arundine atque malva: Et hinc et inde Phobi Jubar refractum miror in ter humidas arenas. ΙΟ I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, I wind about, and in and out, With here a bloffom failing, And here and there a lufty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a filvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel, IO 20 |