Classic Poem

Yes! all the noblest of the tuneful train
Lov'd running waters and have sung their praise.
Xanthus and Simois in old Homer's lays
Still rush in whirling eddies to the main;
We catch at times through Milton's lofty strain
Warblings of Siloa and her sister fount
That bathe the feet of Sion's holy mount;
Dante remembers among souls in pain
The rills that speed down slopes of bright-green sward
To join his Arno; in Petrarca's song
Seems Sorga to console his amorous woe
With soft response; and Spenser, laureate bard
Of British rivers, marshals all their throng
To pass before us in triumphal show.