II

      Then Alpheus bold,

      On his glacier cold,

With his trident the mountains strook;

      And opened a chasm

      In the rocks—­with the spasm

All Erymanthus shook.

      And the black south wind

      It unsealed behind

The urns of the silent snow,

      And earthquake and thunder

      Did rend in sunder

The bars of the springs below.

      And the beard and the hair

      Of the River-god were

Seen through the torrent's sweep,

      As he followed the light

      Of the fleet nymph's flight

To the brink of the Dorian deep.