I coat with slime my pebbles;
The mud I leave on winter days
The summer drought soon trebles.
"With many a stench the air I fill,
With many an odour fetid;
And epidemics I distil
Throughout the dog-days heated.
"I churn contagion as I go,
A foul, filth-sodden river;
For tides may ebb, and tides may flow,