Robert Southey (1774–1843)

From “The Cataract of Lodore” 1820

“How does the water

Come down at Lodore?”

.. . . .. . . .. . . . . .

From its sources which well

In the tarn on the fell;

From its fountains 5

In the mountains,

Its rills and its gills;

Through moss and through brake,

It runs and it creeps

For awhile, till it sleeps 10

In its own little lake.

And thence at departing,

Awakening and starting,

It runs through the reeds

And away it proceeds, 15

Through meadow and glade,

In sun and in shade,

And through the wood-shelter,

Among crags in its flurry,

Helter-skelter, 20

Hurry-scurry.

Here it comes sparkling,

And there it lies darkling;

Now smoking and frothing

Its tumult and wrath in, 25

Till in this rapid race

On which it is bent,

It reaches the place

Of its steep descent.

The cataract strong 30

Then plunges along,

Striking and raging

As if a war waging

Its caverns and rocks among:

Rising and leaping, 35

Sinking and creeping,

Swelling and sweeping,

Showering and springing,

Flying and flinging,

Writhing and ringing, 40

Eddying and whisking,

Spouting and frisking,

Turning and twisting,

Around and around

With endless rebound! 45

Smiting and fighting,

A sight to delight in;

Confounding, astounding,

Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.

.. . . .. . . .. . . .. . . .. . . .. . . .. . . .. . . .. . . . . .

Dividing and gliding and sliding, 50

And falling and brawling and spawling,

And driving and riving and striving,

And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,

And sounding and bounding and rounding,

And bubbling and troubling and doubling, 55

And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling,

And clattering and battering and shattering;

Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting,

Delaying and straying and playing and spraying,

Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing, 60

Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling,

And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming,

And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing,

And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping,

And curling and whirling and purling and twirling, 65

And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,

And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;

And so never ending, but always descending,

Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending,

All at once and all o’er, with a mighty uproar; 70

And this way the water comes down at Lodore.