THE STEPPING-STONES.
Reading edition
The struggling rill insensibly is grown Into a brook of loud and stately march, Cross'd ever and anon by plank or arch; And for like use, lo! what might seem a zone Chosen for ornament—stone match'd with stone In studied symmetry, with interspace
For the clear waters to pursue their race Without restraint. How swiftly have they flown— Succeeding, still succeeding! Here the child Puts, when the high-swoll'n flood runs fierce and wild, His budding courage to the proof; and here Declining manhood learns to note the sly And sure encroachments of infirmity— Thinking how fast time runs—life's end how near. Wordsworth.