CHAPTER VII.
"Here onward swept thy waves,
When tones, now silent, mingled with their sound,
And the wide shore was vocal with the song
Of hunter chief or lover's gentle strain.
Those pass'd away—forgotten as they pass'd;
But holier recollections dwell with thee.
Here hath immortal Freedom built her proud
And solemn monuments. The mighty dust
Of heroes in her cause of glory fallen,