Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/423

CANTO IV.] Thy current's calmness; oft from out it leaps

The finny darter with the glittering scales,

Who dwells and revels in thy glassy deeps;

While, chance, some scattered water-lily sails

Down where the shallower wave still tells its bubbling tales.

LXVIII.

Pass not unblest the Genius of the place!

If through the air a Zephyr more serene

Win to the brow, 'tis his; and if ye trace

Along his margin a more eloquent green,

If on the heart the freshness of the scene

Sprinkle its coolness, and from the dry dust

Of weary life a moment lave it clean

With Nature's baptism,—'tis to him ye must

Pay orisons for this suspension of disgust.