There is an ancient river riding
By the state-of-the-ponds and by the grown seas
Of undulating throwing shades, the grown trees that fit
Themselves by tree and by tree,
And the trees that fit themselves by wind: that stretch by the foliage,
And folding its vapor legs up, by power and by rest.
And here is the river riding;
Under tree and by tree
And needlessly bounding by tree and by tree.
And needlessly fitting itself away by town and so-on
And riding itself by bones in the ancient bed,
And by grounds and by:
It'll turn romantic:
And leave nothing of any use to anybody.
*
"Romantic" refers to the literary school of the same name.
