Thou know’st, being stopp’d, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with the enamell’d stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
30 He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays,
With willing sport, to the [wild] ocean.
Then let me go, and hinder not my course:
I’ll be as patient as a gentle stream,
35 And make a pastime of each weary step,