And snatched them, as they circled by,
Though bursting as they burst before.
Once more we parted. Yet again
We met—though now 'twas evening dim:
Onward the waters rushed amain,
And vanished o'er a cataract's brim.
Though swift and dark the raging surge,
The Bubble-Chaser still was there;
And, bending o'er the dizzy verge,
Clutched at the gaudy things of air.