The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme The witch of Shiloh, the last of the Wampanoags, the gentle earl, the enchanted voyage |
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 | The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme |  |
65
XI
For miles the nimble paddles flew,
Implacable and strong and true
As eagle wings athwart the blue;
For miles they traversed gloom and sheen
With scarce a fathom-length between
The Yankee chief and forest-queen.
Implacable and strong and true
As eagle wings athwart the blue;
For miles they traversed gloom and sheen
With scarce a fathom-length between
The Yankee chief and forest-queen.
Yet aye a distant, surly drone,
(The growl of some torrential leap
Adown a cyclopean steep)
Approached and rolled in grimmer tone.
At last it poured a lion roar;
It seemed to clamor, “Turn or die!”
But still the maiden plied her oar,
And still the chaser followed nigh.
He felt the current's quick'ning swirl,
He knew how near he was to drown;
But yet he hoped to clutch the girl
Before destruction sucked him down.
(The growl of some torrential leap
Adown a cyclopean steep)
Approached and rolled in grimmer tone.
At last it poured a lion roar;
It seemed to clamor, “Turn or die!”
But still the maiden plied her oar,
And still the chaser followed nigh.
He felt the current's quick'ning swirl,
He knew how near he was to drown;
But yet he hoped to clutch the girl
Before destruction sucked him down.
Eftsoon he spied, not far away
Beneath the gleam of Ashtaroth,
A lofty, glorious ghost of spray,
Spanning the river's tossing froth;
And underneath its mighty plumes—
Distinct against the further glooms—
A burnished edge of fleeting steel,
The cataract's awful downward wheel.
Beneath the gleam of Ashtaroth,
A lofty, glorious ghost of spray,
Spanning the river's tossing froth;
And underneath its mighty plumes—
Distinct against the further glooms—
A burnished edge of fleeting steel,
The cataract's awful downward wheel.
| The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | |