Henry Kendall

,By channels of coolness the echoes are calling ;And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling It lives in the mountain, where moss and the sedges ;Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges

,It passed like the breath of the night-wind away  ;It fled like a mist at the dawn of the day  ,It lasted its moment, then backward was hurled .Another increase to the age of the world