The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns.
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
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The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns.
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with th' enameled stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge,
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage.
And so by many winding nooks he strays
With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Then let me go and hinder not my course.
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as after much turmoil
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

What's the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? Speak, read more

What's the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!

I hear a sound so fine there's nothing lives
'Twixt it and silence.

I hear a sound so fine there's nothing lives
'Twixt it and silence.

The music of the brook silenced all conversation.

The music of the brook silenced all conversation.

From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.

From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.

The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.

The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.

Gently running made sweet music with the enameled stones and
seemed to give a gentle kiss to every sedge read more

Gently running made sweet music with the enameled stones and
seemed to give a gentle kiss to every sedge he overtook in his
watery pilgrimage.

The sound must seem an echo to the sense.

The sound must seem an echo to the sense.

And filled the air with barbarous dissonance.

And filled the air with barbarous dissonance.