Life with a thousand pulses—in the scene
We gaze upon? Those towering banks between,
E’er tossed these billows in tumultuous strife?
Billows! there’s not a wave! the waters spread
One broad, unbroken mirror; all around
Is hushed to silence,—silence so profound
That a bird’s carol, or an arrow sped
Into the distance, would, like larum bell,
Jar the deep stillness and dissolve the spell.
Park Benjamin.