 | The battle of Niagara |  |
187
That something terrible once fell
Upon his heart, and froze the source,
Whence comes enthusiasm's force—
Something of icy touch that chills
The heart drops of our youthful years:
Something of withering strength that kills
The flowers that Genius wets with tears—
Fetters the fountain in its flow:
Mildews the blossom in its blow:
And breathes o'er fancy's budding wreath
The clotting damps of early death:
That spreads before the opening light—
(The sunshine of the heart!)
A cloud that tells of coming night,
And chills the warblers in their flight,
That twinkling gaily to the skies,
With piping throats and diamond eyes,
In unfledged strength depart.
| The battle of Niagara | |