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Metrical Tales and other poems by Samuel Lover

Illustrated by W. Harvey, Hablot K. Browne, Kenny Meadows, F. Skill, and P. Skelton

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104

NYMPH OF NIAGARA,

WRITTEN ON LAKE ONTARIO, IMMEDIATELY AFTER LEAVING THE FALLS.

Nymph of Niagara! Sprite of the mist!
With a wild magic my brow thou hast kiss'd;
I am thy slave, and my mistress art thou,
For thy wild kiss of magic is yet on my brow.
I feel it, as first when I knelt before thee,
With thy emerald robe flowing brightly and free,

The brilliant green of the water as it flows in its greatest volume over the centre of the Horse-shoe Fall, is among the many beauties that render renowned this matchless cataract.


Fringed with the spray-pearls, and floating in mist—
Thus 'twas my brow with wild magic you kiss'd.
Thine am I still;—and I'll never forget
The moment the spell on my spirit was set;—

105

Thy chain but a foam-wreath—yet stronger by far
Than the manacle, steel-wrought, for captive of war;
For the steel it will rust, and the war will be o'er,
And the manacled captive be free as before;
While the foam-wreath will bind me for ever to thee!—
I love the enslavement—and would not be free!
Nymph of Niagara, play with the breeze,
Sport with the fawns 'mid the old forest trees;
Blush into rainbows at kiss of the sun,
From the gleam of his dawn till his bright course be run;
I'll not be jealous—for pure is thy sporting,
Heaven-born is all that around thee is courting—
Still will I love thee, sweet Sprite of the mist,
As first when my brow with wild magic you kiss'd!