Three rivers fell to strife, about their own renown,
Producing rival claims to wear the rivers’ crown.
Proud Amazon was one, and yellow Tiber next,
And third, an English Thames—all three most fierce and vex’d.

Said Amazon: “The length of my majestic stream
Makes me amazed that you, two tiny rills, should deem
You can be e’en compared with me—enormous me!
Of rivers I’m the king!—Let that acknowledged be!”

“Absurd!” cried Tiber. “Size—and all that sort of thing
Are never reckon’d points in fixing on a king.
But Rome was mine! And mine her conquests, laws, and fame,
In fact, her total past is coupled with my name!”

“Be silent!” said the Thames; “I’m greater than you both!
Not hist’ry and not miles can match with present growth.
I’m proud to say I own a trading wealthy place,
By Anglo-Saxons built—that fearless, active race!”

The contest grew more sharp, they roll’d their waves in storm;
Thermometers, if there, had shown the waters warm.
Thames wreck’d some twenty ships, and Amazon still more,
While Tiber caused dire dread to Romans as of yore.

At length the mighty sea, lamenting such a fray,
By these wise words prevailed their envious wrath to stay.
“Dear streams! you once were one—to me you all return.
Oh! cease then—being one—with jealousies to burn!”