The day of lustful strife draws on,
The starting horn begins to gleam;
In vain! His red blood soon shall tinge
The waters of thy clear, cold stream.
The dog-star's fiercely blazing hour
Ne'er with its heat doth change thy pool;
To wandering flock and ploughworn steer
Thou givest waters fresh and cool.
Thee, too, 'mong storie
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