Composure

I. Seaward from east to west a river roll'd, Majestic as the aun whose courss it followM, Filling with liquid quiet of clear cold The deptha ita hushed waves hoüow'd. IINo wrinkle ruflled that serene expanse ; Till perched atiptoe on its placid path, A tiny rock the surface pierced by chanco, Whereat it foamed with wrath. III. )vcv the depths, indifferent, smooth of pace, The cuirent with continuous calm had crosset iTct lo, a littlo pin-scratch in the face, Vil its repose was lost !