Classic Poem

To what shall I liken thy sound,
O deep-toned Rhine of Basle?
The dash of waves on the shore,
The beating of rain on the roof,
The roar of wind in the pines? —
All these are strains of thy voice,
And yet is the voice thine own,
Upgathered from notes of the streams
That spring from their cradles of ice
To round thy tumultuous flood,
O green-maned Lion of Basle,
O free republican Rhine.