NIAGARA

A ceaseless, awful, falling sea, whose sound

Shakes earth and air, and whose resistless stroke

Shoots high the volleying foam like cannon smoke!

How dread and beautiful the floods, when, crowned

By moonbeams on their rushing ridge, they bound

Into the darkness and the veiling spray;

Or, jewel-hued and rainbow-dyed, when day

Lights the pale torture of the gulf profound!

So poured the avenging streams upon the world

When swung the ark upon the deluge wave,

And, o'er each precipice in grandeur hurled,

The endless torrents gave mankind a grave.

God's voice is mighty, on the water loud,

Here, as of old, in thunder, glory, cloud!