#poetry  He said, and on the smooth enamell'd green Press'd with short sobs his bosom, and remain'd For many minute silent as the grave.   His train, meanwhile, observ'd his gloomy shade, Veil'd their bright glories, and in clouds spun round The sedgy prison of the humid air, Or on the smooth surface of the flood  Extended lay, beneath the floating grove Roving at large. In thicker swarms they rose. 280 As when the potent rod of Aaron cast Into the clearest depth of liquid glass, The fishermen of Nile, observing wide,  From the dry bank beheld motes, mothers, birth, And bottom of the muddy stream. Anon They organize; the generations soon Increase. Linnaeus, never didst thou change So soft a form, so beautiful a face. Ah! smaller far, they run in circling race; With greater concentration, clear and fine, From the male seed, the female have thy line.