Pure Element Of Waters! Wheresoe'Er Thou Dost Forsake Thy Subterranean Haunts, Green Herbs, Bright Flowers, And Berry-Bearing Plants, Rise Into Life And In Thy Train Appear: And, Through The Sunny Portion Of The Year, Swift Insects Shine, Thy Hovering Pursuivants: And, If Thy Bounty Fail, The Forest Pants; And Hart And Hind And Hunter With His Spear, Languish And Droop Together. Nor Unfelt In Man'S Perturbed Soul Thy Sway Benign; And, Haply, Far Within The Marble Belt Of Central Earth, Where Tortured Spirits Pine For Grace And Goodness Lost, Thy Murmurs Melt Their Anguish, And They Blend Sweet Songs With Thine.