When the earth was young this river
Was a thing of unsoiled beauty.
It gurgled down from the hill,
And hymned its way through the valley.
A pageant in the sunlight,
A mystery under the moon,
And a symbol of all eternity
Where it lost itself in the ocean.

I crossed the river the other day
On a hideous ferryboat,
I leaned on the rail and watched the wheel
Savagely churn up the water.
It churned up time and boxes,
Jute bags and rotten cabbages,
A cat some seven days drowned
And a stench that went to the stomach.

The river hissed and frothed
In piteous indignation.
I thought: Why this hissing and frothing,
Do you not know
That the ultimate end of all beautiful rivers
Is to carry sewage to the sea?