"How does the water
Come down at Lodore?"
My little boy asked me
Thus, once on a time;
And moreover he tasked me
To tell him in rhyme.
Anon at the word,
There first came one daughter,
And then came another,
To second and third
The request of their brother,
And to hear how the water
Comes down at Lodore,
With its rush and its roar,
As many a time
They had seen it before.
So I told them in rhyme,
For of rhymes I had store;
And 'twas in my vocation
For their recreation
That so I should sing;
Because I was Laureate
To them and the King.
From its sources which well
In the tarn on the fell;
From its fountains
In the mountains,
Its rills and its gills;
Through moss and through brake,
It runs and it creeps
For a while till it sleeps
In its own little lake.
And thence at departing,
Awakening and starting,
It runs through the reeds,
And away it proceeds,
Through meadow and glade,
In sun and in shade,
And through the wood-shelter,
Among crags in its flurry,
Helter-skelter,
Hurry-skurry,
Here it comes sparkling,
And there it lies darkling;
Now smoking and frothing
Its tumult and wrath in,
Till, in this rapid race
On which it is bent,
It reaches the place
Of its steep descent.
The cataract strong
Then plunges along,
Striking and raging
As if a war waging
Its caverns and rocks among;
Rising and leaping,
Sinking and creeping,
Swelling and sweeping,
Showering and springing,
Flying and flinging,
Writhing and wringing,
Eddying and whisking,
Spouting and frisking,
Turning and twisting
Around and around
With endless rebound:
Smiting and fighting,
A sight to delight in;
Confounding, astounding,
Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.
Collecting, projecting,
Receding and speeding,
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And threading and spreading,
And whizzing and hissing,
And dripping and skipping,
And hitting and splitting,
And shining and twining,
And rattling and battling,
And shaking and quaking,
And pouring and roaring,
And waving and raving,
And tossing and crossing,
And flowing and going,
And running and stunning,
And foaming and roaming,
And dinning and spinning,
And dropping and hopping,
And working and jerking,
And guggling and struggling,
And heaving and cleaving,
And moaning and groaning;
And glittering and frittering,
And gathering and feathering,
And whitening and brightening,
And quivering and shivering,
And hurrying and skurrying,
And thundering and floundering;
Dividing and gliding and sliding,
And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And driving and riving and striving,
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,
And sounding and bounding and rounding,
And bubbling and troubling and doubling,
And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling,
And clattering and battering and shattering;
Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting,
Delaying and straying and playing and spraying.
Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing,
Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling,
And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming,
And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing,
And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping,
And curling and whirling and purling and twirling,
And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending,
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar,
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
Cataract Of Lodore, The
Robert Southey
(1)
Poem topics: away, brother, daughter, never, running, sun, war, forever, king, shade, place, hear, strong, delight, endless, sound, request, shining, meadow, steep, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Sipke van der Zee: The Dutch poet Jacob van Lennep wrote a poem in the same style about the German river Dusse, next to the cave of the Neanderthaler-man:
Hoe loopt de Dusse langs het hol van Neander?
Hier ziet men het water
Met schaatrend geklater
Al golvend verschijnen
Met glinsterenden luister
En wondere pracht,
En daar weer verdwijnen
In akelig duister
En sombere nacht:
Soms toont het in ’t donker
Een schitterend geflonker
Waar niemand het wacht:
’t Verzinkt weer, en blikt weer
Op ’t mossige steen
En baant zich, al glijdend,
Den weerstand vermijdend,
Of moedig bestrijdend,
Van boei zich bevrijdend,
De heuvlen doorsnijdend,
Zijn bedding verwijdend,
Een weg naar beneen:
……………………………
En borr’lend en morr’lend,
En gonzend en bonzend,
En hobblend en bobb’lend,
En dart’lend en spart’lend,
En vechtend en slechtend,
En worst’lend en borst’lend,
En wijknd en strijkend,
En sleepend en zweepend,
En dansend en glansend,
En flikk’rend en blikk’rend,
En stortend en hortend,
En klimmend en glimmend,
En romm’lend en stomm’lend,
……………………………….
En klettrend en schett’rend en plett’rend en knett’rend,
En schuivend en stuivend en snuivend en wuivend,
En vallend en schallend en knallend en brallend,
……………………………….
En weem’lend, verscholen
In dompige holen,
En sluimerend verzonken
In diepe spelonken,
Zich kring’lend en krullend in eeuw’gen meander:
-Alzoo loopt de Dusse langs ’t hol van Neander.
Jacob van Lennep ( 1802-1868)
Inspired by The Cataract of Lodore of Robert Southey
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