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 Further, his fellows came flying in flocks, Gemming the rushes, and gilding the rocks, Beckoning, beckoning! Onward I roll’d.... Lighter the gloom became, brighter the gold.... Till, pushing, entreating, Ah! winning my way— Out of the Dark I ran, into the Day!

There, for a little, my way I lost— Wandering off in a score of tracks.... Oozing thro’ alleys velvet-moss’d, Looping, lacing the Fern and Flax, Crumbling hoof-prints furtively fingering, Leisurely under the cool Turf lingering.... Till, how I know not, gather’d and guided, All together again I glided, Stay’d awhile for a last caress To Mandarin-Button, and Watercress, Then, under yon wire was led, and tame Here, to the level Paddock came.

Like a polish’d column long, Nodding Grass and Flowers among, One long line of liquid light, Softly, smoothly, stilly bright, ’Mid the Paddock now I lie— Yet still slip and slither by! Painted is my peaceful sheen With white and yellow, blue and green; Many a mouth is bent to drink, Now, upon my easy brink; And I water Poplar-shoots, Apricot and Apple-roots,