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The adopted daughter

and other tales
  
  
  
  

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NIAGARA.
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350

Page 350

NIAGARA.

Grand cataract! how vain seems human power,
While gazing, awe-struck, on thy boiling wave!
In days of sunshine, and when tempests lower,
Thy mighty mass of frantic billows rave.
The main, though oft the reckless seaman's grave
Is calm, when winds do not its waves infest;
And gently then the rocky shore doth lave:
But what can soothe thy billows into rest,
Or lull the wild throes of thy troubled breast?
And high above the deep and dark abyss,
How lovely Heaven's triumphal arch appears,
A herald seeming from the seats of bliss,
To cheer the pilgrim in this vale of tears.
The giant pine its green top proudly rears,
Forever watered by the misty air;
Within the surge the flying swallow fears
To dip his wing, nor will the wild-duck dare
To rashly lave his glossy bosom there.