When of no ancient house or certain seat,(Nor, known before this time, untimely, great)Rais'd by some sudden thaw thus high and proud,No holding thee, ill-manner'd upstart flood ;Not my love-tales can make thee stay thy course,Thou—zounds, thou art a—river for a horse.Thou hadst no fountain, but from bears wert pist,From snows, and thaws, or Scotch unsav'ry mist.Thou crawl'st along, in winter foul and poor,In summer puddled like a common-shore.In all thy days when didst a courtesy ?Dry traveller ne'er laid a lip to thee.The bane to cattle, to the meadows worse,For something all, I for my sufferings curse.To such unworthy wretch, how am I sham'd,That I the gen'rous am'rous river nam'd!When Nile and Achelous I display'd,And Thame and Ouse, what worm was in my headFor thy reward, discourteous river, IWish, be the summers hot, the winters dry.