Edmund Peel

TEES! if the wells we draw from shed no light,

Thou hast a voice to gladden thy green dale,

Till the rocks founder and the mountains fail.

Plunge, and roll on, in full harmonious might,

Based on primeval adamantine right!

Wind out, and reach, and murmur down the vale;

Or in a torrent, white as stony hail,

Strike the deep caves of thunder, black as night,

Whose walls stand fast forever! What am I

Thy depths to fathom, or to wield thy force,

Or of thy shoals to babble, Various One?

We came alike from yonder equal sky.

Could I but run thy clear and sonorous course,

Rejoicing thousands, disappointing none!