With which erewhile I saw that multitude 545
Wheel through the sky, and see them now at rest,
Yet not at rest, upon the glassy lake.
They cannot rest, they gambol like young whelps;
Active as lambs, and overcome with joy.
They try all frolic motions; flutter, plunge, 550
And beat the passive water with their wings.
Too distant are they for plain view, but lo!
Those little fountains, sparkling in the sun,
Betray their occupation, rising up,