See, how the rushing torrents pour!
A deluge now in ev'ry show'r!
The mountain tops apace decay,
The little hillocks melt away:
No more in ponds the gosling talks,
But sails secure on gravel walks.
The very fish have left the floods,
And glide, or graze among the woods;
Unknowing where to shape their way,
Or which is earth, or which is sea.
Ev'n little , amphibious creature!
Lives solely now beneath the water.