soft-rippled

Updated: February 13, 2026

But always, down the hoary mountain-side, Through whispering forests, by soft-rippled streams, In clattering streets, or the great city's roar, Still from his never sated soul went up, "Give me Thy Quest! Show me the Sangreal, Lord!"

Various - The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 71, September, 1863