The wide-spread traces of its wintry might,
The tortuous channel wound; o’er beds of sand
Here silently it flows; here from the rock
Rebutted, curls and eddies; plunges here
Precipitate; here roaring among crags,
It leaps and foams and whirls and hurries on.
Grey alders here and bushy hazels hid
The mossy side; their wreath’d and knotted feet
Bared by the current, now against its force
Repaying the support they found, upheld