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THE fountains mingle with the river,

And the rivers with the ocean; The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single ;

All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle ;-

Why not I with thine ?


See the mountains kiss high heaven,

And the waves clasp one another ; No sister flower would be forgiven,

If it disdained it's brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea : What are all these kissings worth,

If thou kiss not me?

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Se vent,

as séas sicer;
Tse Ezra scenei tre bar,

And Hezee bore ber, 1 ste Szered traris the deep.

Then Alpheus bold,

On his glacier cold,
With his trident the mountains strook ;

And opened a chasm

In the rocks ; — with the spasm All Erymanthus shook.

And the black south wind

It concealed behind The urns of the silent snow,

And earthquake and thunder

Did rend in sunder
The bars of the springs below:

The beard and the hair

Of the River-god were
Seen through the torrent's sweep,

As he followed the light

Of the fleet nymph's flight To the brink of the Dorian deep.


“Oh, save me ! Oh, guide me !

And bid the deep hide me,
For he grasps me now by the hair !"

The loud Ocean heard,

To its blue depth stirred, And divided at her prayer ;

And under the water

The Earth's white daughter Fled like a sunny beam ;

Behind her descended

Her billows, unblended
With the brackish Dorian stream: -

Like a gloomy stain

On the emerald main Alpheus rushed behind,

As an eagle pursuing

A dove to its ruin
Down the streams of the cloudy wind.


Under the bowers

Where the Ocean Powers Sit on their pearled thrones,

Through the coral woods

Of the weltering floods, Over heaps of unvalued stones;

Through the dim beams

Which amid the streams
Weave a net-work of coloured light;

And under the caves,

Where the shadowy waves Are as green as the forest's night :

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And now from their fountains

In Enna's mountains, Down one vale where the morning basks,

Like friends once parted

Grown single-hearted, They ply their watery tasks.

At sunrise they leap

From their cradles steep
In the cave of the shelving hill;

At noon-tide they flow

Through the woods below And the meadows of Asphodel ;

And at night they sleep

In the rocking deep Beneath the Ortygian shore ;

Like spirits that lie

In the azure sky
When they love but live no more.

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