Through blossom'd heath and ripening field.
When, shrunk by summer's fervid beam,
Thy peaceful waves I first beheld.
Calmly they swept thy winding shore.
When harvest's mirthful feast was nigh—
When, breeze-borne, with thy hoarser roar
Came mingling sweet the reapers' cry.
But now I mark thy angry wave
Rush headlong to the stormy sea;