Not envying shades which haply yet may throw

I The River Duddon Sonnets

Not envying shades which haply yet may throw
A grateful coolness round that rocky spring,
Bandusia, once responsive to the string
Of the Horatian lyre with babbling flow;
Careless of flowers that in perennial blow
Round the moist marge of Persian fountains cling;
Heedless of Alpine torrents thundering
Through icy portals radiant as heaven’s bow;
I seek the birth-place of a native Stream.—
All hail ye mountains, hail thou morning light!
Better to breathe upon this aëry height
Than pass in needless sleep from dream to dream;
Pure flow the verse, pure, vigorous, free, and bright,
For Duddon, long-lov’d Duddon, is my theme!