from: I Stood Tip-Toe Upon A Little Hill

...Swarms of minnows show their little heads,

Staying their wavy bodies 'gainst the streams,

To taste the luxury of sunny beams

Tempered with coolness. How they ever wrestle

With their own sweet delight, and ever nestle

Their silver bellies on the pebbly sand.

If you but scantily hold out the hand,

That very instant not one will remain;

But turn your eye, and they are there again.

The ripples seem right glad to reach those cresses,

And cool themselves among the em'rald tresses;

The while they cool themselves, they freshness give,

And moisture, that the bowery green may live.

-John Keats