The Tarn and the Torrent

The Torrent came rushing and leaping,
And white was the crash of its glee!
Whence came it, a hunter unsleeping,
In headlong hunt for the sea?

From the cloistered Tarn up yonder,
The cataract's mother serene,
That dwells where the mountains ponder
On all that the Worlds may mean.

And there, hemmed round from commotion,
The cloistered Tarn is at rest,
That never has dreamed of the Ocean,
Or the wild dark heart in his breast.
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