My first consigner unto those
Fountains of life, where the Lamb goes,
What sublime truths, and wholesome themes
Lodge in thy mystical, deep streams!
Such as dull man can never find,
Unless that Spirit lead his mind,
Which first upon thy face did move,
And hatched all with his quickening love.
As this loud brook’s incessant fall
In streaming rings restagnates all,
Which reach by course the bank, and then
Are no more seen, just so pass men.”—British poet Henry Vaughan (1621-1695), from “The Waterfall”
I snapped the accompanying image, like yesterday’s shot, during several minutes by the banks of Miller’s Pond, not far from where I live in New Jersey. This is nothing like the pure, magnificent streams in a mountainous area, but, like that other setting, the sudden drop from higher ground and the rush of water fascinate me.