The mountain frowns black to the battling storm.
He bristles his bayonet-pines to dare
The flashing, charge of the wrathful air.
But yet the sunlight, cheery and warm,
Kindling the darkness, paling the glare,
Tells that the fierce warring foe will deform
The scene little longer, but, shorn of his sway,
Breaking and dwindling, will vanish away.
While, scattered like stars in the glancing glow,
Lilies gleam out from the lake’s deep gloom;
And trees rich chequer of shadow throw
Where wild birds warble and wild flowers bloom,
And waterfalls tinkle in foamy flow.
Symbol of life in its shadow and sheen!
Even when sorrow is shading the heart,
Hope’s ray cheerily dances between,
Telling the tempest will soon depart.
Symbol of thee, with the lake of thy tears,
Oh land, and thy mountain of strife and of sorrow!
But bright through the battle-rack Hope appears,
Smiling in promise of golden morrow.
THE RAPIDS.
Ho, the headlong rapids
How they rush and rave,
Roaring through the forest
Like the stormy wave!
How the curbless war-steeds
Frenzied leap and strain!
See the frantic war-steeds
Toss their flashing mane!
Brief the noontide thunder!
Brief the lightning’s ray!
Ever rolls the bolt here,
Ever gleams the spray!
Woe, the crossing panther,
Woe, the drinking deer,
Should the monster grasp them
With his fangs of fear!
See the shattered pine-trees
How they lean and rock,
As the bounding surges
Beat with endless shock!
Dashing, tearing, tumbling,
Down the surges go!
Ho, the tusks of granite
How they champ the snow!