One river from the mountain springs was born, <br />Into three several streams its course was torn. <br />For one a royal path was made; it ran, <br />Sheltered and screened, through channels paved by man; <br />A noble flood, a bounteous, beauteous river, <br />In light and glory rolling forth for ever. <br />One, to the children of the earth became <br />A slave unwilling, bound, but never tame. <br />Round lashing wheels its silver foam was spread, <br />Through murky chambers its bright waves were led, <br />Dread clangour of huge engines drowned its voice, <br />At its dark work forbidden to rejoice; <br />Close by its fiery foe its white waves boil, <br />Fierce ruddy flames beside it glow and toil, <br />Striving and labouring, panting, rushing past, <br />All stained and sullied it leaps free at last, <br />And down the huge cliffs with one shouting bound <br />Joins its fair sister on the level ground <br />Of a green valley. One sad stream was led <br />By God, not man, through chasms dark, drear, and dread: <br />Horrible depths ne'er visited by light, <br />Caves of despair, dismay, and thickest night; <br />There in an agony the lonely river <br />Leapt down, and turned, and writhed, and plunged for ever; <br />Seeking escape from out the hideous deep, <br />Where its wild waters were condemned to weep; <br />But this tormented stream too found its way, <br />At length to the sweet air of upper day; <br />And altogether they flow down to rest <br />One with the other in the Ocean's breast. <br />So ends all life that is but mortal breath,— <br />All fates are equal in the lap of Death.<br /><br />Frances Anne Kemble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-on-the-anio-at-tivoli/
