And chainless as thy current’s ceaseless swell.
Behold them growing into power! They fell
The old primeval forests which have stood
For ages in the valleys; they dispel
The shades from Nature’s face, and thickly strewed,
Their villages spring up amid the solitude.
I look again, and I behold them not;
Silence resumes once more her ancient reign.
A solitary form stands on the spot,
Where mine had stood; around on hill and plain,