Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/9

Rh Niagara and the storm-cloud! To the peal Of their united thunder, rugged rocks Amazed reverberate, through depths profound Streams the red lightning, while the loftiest trees Bow, and are troubled. Shuddering earth doth hide In midnight's veil; and even the ethereal mind, Which hath the seed of immortality Within itself,—not undismayed, beholds This fearful tumult of the elements.

Old Ocean meets the tempest and is wroth, And in his wrath destroys. The wrecking ship, The sea-boy stricken from the quaking mast, The burning tear wrung forth from many a home, To which the voyager returns no more, Attest the fury of his vengeful mood. But thou, Niagara, know'st no passion-gust; Thy mighty bosom, from the sheeted rain, Spreads not itself to sudden boastfulness, Like the wild torrent in its shallow bed. Thou art not angry, and thou changest not.

Man finds in thee no emblem of himself: The cloud depresseth him, the adverse blast Rouseth the billows of his discontent, The wealth of summer-showers inflates his pride, And with the simple faith and love of Him Who made him from the dust, he mingleth much