Such simple means his nature spurned;
Some mighty deed, he proudly thought.
Was needful, when his cure was wrought,
“Are not our Syrian streams,” he said,
“Better than Jordan’s vaunted tide?
“Is not Arbana’s silver wave,
“Or Pharphar’s flood, fit place to lave?”
But, yielding to affection’s prayer
The haughty leper sought the shore;
Where Jordan’s swelling waters flowed,