For Nature pitied, and gave ample fare.
To slake thirst they but had to track the sound
Of torrents tumbling from great hills around—
A call their fellows, the wild beasts, knew well.
And oft a man would linger in some cell
Of Wood-Nymph invited by the cool air,
Since thence broke springs unfailing. Here and there
They bubbled round rocks, loitering to play
With each; then would awhile sleep on their way
In soft green moss, before all joined, to flow,