Praised be the Rivers, from their mountain-springs
Shouting to Freedom, “Plant thy Banners here!”
To harassed Piety, “Dismiss thy fear,
And in our Caverns smooth thy ruffled wings!”
Nor be unthanked their tardiest lingerings
’Mid reedy fens wide-spread and marshes drear,
Their own creation, till their long career
End in the sea engulphed. Such welcomings
As came from mighty Po when Venice rose,
Greeted those simple Heirs of truth divine
Who near his fountains sought obscure repose,
Yet were prepared as glorious lights to shine,
Should that be needed for their sacred Charge;
Blest Prisoners They, whose spirits are at large!