TO
MISS EVELEEN ——.
WRITTEN ON THE TABLE ROCK, AT
THE FALLS OF NIAGARA, 1828.
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Oh!
with thee, my dear girl, ’tis now doubly sweet,
One moment to gaze on those
columns of foam,
O’er the brim of that precipice rushing to
meet,
In Ontario’s bosom
a happier home.
And oh! there’s a grandeur sublime in the
surge,
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Which
awakens a feeling unkindled before—
A language conveyed, in the gloom of that dirge,
Sent forth from each torrent
that bursts on the shore.
But now, from the struggles of waters below,
Let us turn our eyes to
a happier scene,
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And
mark the deep tints of yon miniature bow,
Commingled with heaven’s
pure essence of green. [Page 169]
This, this is an æra of grandeur sublime,
Mark’d out in life’s
pathway as onward we go,
To the goal of our hopes, to that heavenly clime,
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| Where
the waters of Eden in quietness flow. [Page
170] |
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