But now, when she sang, the young ones listened, enraptured with her voice, which was so bright and so clear and so wonderfully still:
The wildest water on earth to-day
(God grant me His grace consoling!)
Flows deep and dreary through gorges grey,
But whither and whence they alone can say
Who first set its wild waves rolling.
For no ship ever its tideway knew,
Its marge bore never a blossom.
And never a bird from the beaches flew,
And never a mirrored star it drew