Read it through once

The broad-backed hippopotamus Rests on his belly in the mud. The foam about his nostrils spreads Like a white fringe upon a blackened lip. He will not drink the river water But digs himself a pool of his own, and lies there like a god. They call him the river-horse, the marsh-beast; He is gaunt and grizzled and has the manners of a peasant. But when he moves, the ground trembles, And the low grasses bend their heads before him.