Faint shimmering spray, it lightly tripped
Across white pebbly sand, and stripped
The marsh flowers’ gold, and fled, half seen,
A splash of silver through the green.
And all the while that music sweet
Kept softly murmuring at my feet,
As down the rocks in ceaseless streams
The limpid cascades poured, and still
The slumberous light in yellow beams
Bathed the green hemlock boughs,—until