How sweet at Eve’s still hour the song

How sweet at Eve’s still hour the song
Of Streams, the hills and vales among.
Wide as the School-boy’s step the rill
Drops from the near rock tinkling shrill
The Brook scarce worth a bridge of stone
Soothes the lull’d ear with softer moan.
A deep majestic murmur shews
Where the slow solemn River flows
The torrent like the raving shore
Swells the full choir[‘s] sullen roar.