Once more, sweet stream! with slow foot wand'ring near, <br />I bless thy milky waters cold and clear. <br />Escaped the flashing of the noontide hours, <br />With one fresh garland of Pierian flowers <br />(Ere from thy zephyr-haunted brink I turn) <br />My languid hand shall wreath thy mossy urn. <br />For not thro' pathless grove with murmur rude <br />Then soothest the sad wood-nymph, solitude: <br />Nor thine unseen in cavern depths to well, <br />The hermit-fountain of some dripping cell! <br />Pride of the vale! thy useful streams supply <br />The scattered cots and peaceful hamlet nigh. <br />The elfin tribe around thy friendly banks <br />With infant uproar and soul-soothing pranks, <br />Released from school, their little hearts at rest, <br />Launch paper navies on thy waveless breast. <br />The rustic here at eve with pensive look <br />Whistling lorn ditties leans upon his crook, <br />Or starting pauses with hope-mingled dread <br />To list the much-loved maid's accustom'd tread: <br />She, vainly mindful of her dame's command, <br />Loiters, the long-filled pitcher in her hand. <br />Unboastful stream! thy fount with pebbled falls <br />The faded form of past delight recalls, <br />What time the morning sun of hope arose, <br />And all was joy; save when another's woes <br />A transient gloom upon my soul imprest, <br />Like passing clouds impictured on thy breast. <br />Life's current then ran sparkling to the noon, <br />Or silvery stole beneath the pensive moon: <br />Ah! now it works rude brakes and thorns among, <br />Or o'er the rough rock bursts and foams along!<br /><br />Samuel Taylor Coleridge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-to-a-beautiful-spring-in-a-village/
