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The fountains of sacred rivers flow upwards (i.e., everything is
turned topsy turvy.)
The fountains of sacred rivers flow upwards (i.e., everything is
turned topsy turvy.)
On the Big Blackfoot River above the mouth of Belmont Creek the
banks are fringed by large Ponderosa pines. read more
On the Big Blackfoot River above the mouth of Belmont Creek the
banks are fringed by large Ponderosa pines. In the slanting sun
of late afternoon the shadows of great branches reached across
the river, and the trees took the river in their arms.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
Where Alph, the sacred river ran,
read more
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
Where Alph, the sacred river ran,
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
And see the rivers how they run
Through woods and meads, in shade and sun,
Sometimes swift, read more
And see the rivers how they run
Through woods and meads, in shade and sun,
Sometimes swift, sometimes slow,--
Wave succeeding wave, they go
A various journey to the deep,
Like human life to endless sleep!
He who does not know his way to the sea should take a river for
his guide.
[Fr., read more
He who does not know his way to the sea should take a river for
his guide.
[Fr., Les rivieres sont des chemins qui marchant et qui portent
ou l'on veut aller.]
Ayr, gurgling, kissed his pebbled shore,
O'erhung with wild woods, thickening green;
The fragrant birch and hawthorn read more
Ayr, gurgling, kissed his pebbled shore,
O'erhung with wild woods, thickening green;
The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar
Twined amorous round the raptures scene.
Where stray ye, Muses! in what lawn or grove,
. . . .
In those fair fields read more
Where stray ye, Muses! in what lawn or grove,
. . . .
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, read more
Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence
Becomes a benefaction to the towns
They visit, wandering silently among them,
Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise.