Classic Poem

Forth from the glaring heat,
Which bakes the mountain walls,
Ah, pleasant to bathe our feet
In the clear green pool in the midst of the falls!
Hither, day after day,
We come, my Arthur & I,
While the sun makes foambows of the spray,
Beneath the castle up in the sky.
& breasting the granite & porphyry rocks,
Streaming, eddying and tossing their locks,
Bellowing [?] here & shouldering there
And rounding the stone, & slipping between
And sliding over, & leaping in air,
The bodies of liquid glisten green,
Break to commingle & follow their fellows,
Plumed with foam, to the white abyss
That through the chasm bellows
In a passion of watery bliss.

I watch the endless flow
And the mighty will that is here,
Till the spirit of waters I know,
And clasp it without fear.

Move to your destiny springs [?] of life
And sharpen your instincts