GBMD - Lodore Falls

I'm publishing my Muse Day piece without a photograph (though the Lodore link below will take you to some fine ones) because my poem is designed as a picture in its own right. I love the onomatopoeic use of words - written in 1820 by Robert Southey and I first heard it performed as a song at last summer's Sing for Water in London. Read it aloud for best effect:

The Cataract of Lodore

" How does the Water

Come down at Lodore?"

My little boy ask'd me

Thus, once on a time;

And moreover he task'd me

To tell him in rhyme.

Anon at the word

There came first 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 should I 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 awhile 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-scurry.

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 ringing,

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 scurrying,

And thundering and floundering,

Dividing and gliding and sliding,

And falling and brawling and sprawling,

And diving 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 for ever and ever are blending,

All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar,

And this way the water comes down at Lodore.