The Gates of Lodore

The scenery of Lodore is rugged and beautiful.

NPS Photo/Jake Frank

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“How does the water Come down at Lodore?” My little boy asked me thus, once on a time; and moreover he tasked me to tell him in rhyme. Anon, at the word, there first came one daughter, and then came another, to second and third the request of their brother, and to hear how the water comes down at Lodore, with its rush and its roar, as many a time they had seen it before. So I told them in rhyme, for of rhymes I had store; and ‘twas in my vocation for their recreation that so I should sing; because I was laureate to them and the king. From its sources which well In the tarn on the fell; from its fountains In the mountains, its rills and its gills; through moss and through brake, it runs and it creeps for a while, till it sleeps In its own little lake. And thence at departing, awakening and starting, it runs through the reeds, and away it proceeds, through meadow and glade, in sun and in shade, and through the wood-shelter, among crags in its flurry, helter-skelter, hurry-skurry. Here it comes sparkling, and there it lies darkling; now smoking and frothing Its tumult and wrath in, till, in this rapid race on which it is bent, it reaches the place of its steep descent.”

Excerpt from “ The Catarct of Lodore” by Robert Southey