The glassy surface, ruffled ne’er but then,
Save when a bubble rising from the depth
Burst, and with faintest circles mark’d its place,
Or if an insect skimm’d it with its wing,
Or when in heavier drops the gather’d rain
Fell from the oak’s high bower. The mountain roe,
When, having drank there, he would bound across,
Drew up upon the bank his meeting feet,
And put forth half his force. With silent lapse
From thence through mossy banks the water stole,