Elegy Upon A Dead Salmon

For Thee no more shall water Quechee pour
Her Milky Torrent o'er her Rocky Shore.
Dash down the Fall or mount in Mist the Sky
But Whiten into Foam to please thine Eye
For Thee no more the Western Waters play
Now glide in Silence or o'er pebbles stray
For Thee no more the Bean like Insect skim
The placid Water with his Silken Wing--
But if Thou crest the Wave with Virgin Finn &c --