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Its limpid clearness faded to dull gray,
And scarce a darting minnow remained in it,
And losing all its freshness, became foul;
To even bathe the hands it was unfit.

And poisoned by the hand of man it grew
To be a sad menace to life and health;
And as it sped to join the glittering lake
It entered sluggishly, as if by stealth:

Staining its bosom with a muddy cloud,
And poisoning the fish along its banks.
It had received from every living thing,
Except the hand of man, most gracious thanks.

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