The Falls of Niagara and Other Famous Cataracts Part 10

One died in battle, one in bed, and one by secret foe; But the waters fall as once they fell two hundred years ago.

"Ah, me! what myriads of men, since then, have come and gone; What states have risen and decayed, what prizes lost and won; What varied tricks the juggler, Time, has played with all below: But the waters fall as once they fell two hundred years ago.

"What troops of tourists have encamped upon the river's brink; What poets shed from countless quills Niagaras of ink; What artist armies tried to fix the evanescent bow Of the waters falling as they fell two hundred years ago.

"And stately inns feed scores of guests from well replenished larder, And hackmen drive their horses hard, but drive a bargain harder; And screaming locomotives rush in anger to and fro: But the waters fall as once they fell two hundred years ago.

"And brides of every age and clime frequent the island's bower, And gaze from off the stone-built perch--hence called the Bridal Tower-- And many a lunar belle goes forth to meet a lunar beau, By the waters falling as they fell two hundred years ago.

"And bridges bind thy breast, O stream! and buzzing mill-wheels turn, To show, like Samson, thou art forced thy daily bread to earn: And steamers splash thy milk-white waves, exulting as they go, But the waters fall as once they fell two hundred years ago.

"Thy banks no longer are the same that early travelers found them, But break and crumble now and then like other banks around them; And on their verge our life sweeps on--alternate joy and woe; But the waters fall as once they fell two hundred years ago.

"Thus phantoms of a by-gone age have melted like the spray, And in our turn we too shall pa.s.s, the phantoms of to-day: But the armies of the coming time shall watch the ceaseless flow Of waters falling as they fell two hundred years ago."

On turning to the more serious poems that have been written on the theme, the reader naturally experiences a feeling of disappointment that a scene which has filled and charmed so many eyes should have found so few interpreters. Only those who see Niagara know how fast the tongue is bound when the thought struggles most for utterance. One who seems to have experienced this feeling thus expresses it:

"I came to see; I thought to write; I am but----dumb."

The late Mr. Willis G. Clark thus expands the same sentiment:

"Here speaks the voice of G.o.d--let man be dumb, Nor with his vain aspiring hither come.

That voice impels the hollow-sounding floods, And like a Presence fills the distant woods.

These groaning rocks the Almighty's finger piled; For ages here his painted bow has smiled, Mocking the changes and the chance of time-- Eternal, beautiful, serene, sublime!"

The following from the Table Rock Alb.u.m was written by the late Lord Morpeth:

NIAGARA FALLS.--BY LORD MORPETH.

"There's nothing great or bright, thou glorious Fall!

Thou mayest not to the fancy's sense recall.

The thunder-riven cloud, the lightning's leap, The stirring of the chambers of the deep; Earth's emerald green and many tinted dyes, The fleecy whiteness of the upper skies; The tread of armies thickening as they come.

The boom of cannon and the beat of drum; The brow of beauty and the form of grace, The pa.s.sion and the prowess of our race; The song of Homer in its loftiest hour, The unresisted sweep of human power; Britannia's trident on the azure sea, America's young shout of Liberty!

Oh! may the waves which madden in thy deep _There_ spend their rage nor climb the encircling steep; And till the conflict of thy surges cease The nations on thy banks repose in peace."

The extracts below are from a poem written after a visit to the Falls by Jose Maria Heredia, and translated from the Spanish by William Cullen Bryant:

"NIAGARA.

"Tremendous torrent! for an instant hush The terrors of thy voice, and cast aside Those wide involving shadows, that my eyes May see the fearful beauty of thy face!

"Thou flowest on in quiet, till thy waves Grow broken 'midst the rocks; thy current then Shoots onward like the irresistible course Of destiny. Ah, terribly they rage,-- The hoa.r.s.e and rapid whirlpools there! My brain Grows wild, my senses wander, as I gaze Upon the hurrying waters; and my sight Vainly would follow, as toward the verge Sweeps the wide torrent. Waves innumerable Meet there and madden,--waves innumerable Urge on and overtake the waves before, And disappear in thunder and in foam.

"They reach, they leap the barrier,--the abyss Swallows insatiable the sinking waves.

A thousand rainbows arch them, and woods Are deafened with the roar. The violent shock Shatters to vapor the descending sheets.

A cloudy whirlwind fills the gulf, and heaves The mighty pyramid of circling mist To heaven. * * * *

What seeks my restless eye? Why are not here, About the jaws of this abyss, the palms,-- Ah, the delicious palms,--that on the plains Of my own native Cuba spring and spread Their thickly foliaged summits to the sun, And, in the breathings of the ocean air Wave soft beneath the heaven's unspotted blue?

"But no, Niagara,--thy forest pines Are fitter coronal for thee. The palm, The effeminate myrtle and pale rose may grow In gardens and give out their fragrance there, Unmanning him who breathes it. Thine it is To do a n.o.bler office. Generous minds Behold thee, and are moved and learn to rise Above earth's frivolous pleasures; they partake Thy grandeur at the utterance of thy name.

"Dread torrent, that with wonder and with fear Dost overwhelm the soul of him who looks Upon thee, and dost bear it from itself,-- Whence hast thou thy beginning? Who supplies, Age after age, thy unexhausted springs?

What power hath ordered that, when all thy weight Descends into the deep, the swollen waves Rise not and roll to overwhelm the earth?

"The Lord hath opened his omnipotent hand, Covered thy face with clouds and given his voice To thy down-rus.h.i.+ng waters: he hath girt Thy terrible forehead with his radiant bow.

I see thy never-resting waters run, And I bethink me how the tide of time Sweeps to eternity."

The lyric from which the following extracts are taken was written by Mr.

A. S. Ridgely, of Baltimore, Md.:

"Man lays his scepter on the ocean waste, His footprints stiffen in the Alpine snows, But only G.o.d moves visibly in thee, O King of Floods! that with resistless fate Down plungest in thy mighty width and depth.

* * * Amazement, terror, fill, Impress and overcome the gazer's soul.

Man's schemes and dreams and petty littleness Lie open and revealed. Himself far less-- Kneeling before thy great confessional-- Than are the bubbles of the pa.s.sing tides.

Words may not picture thee, nor pencil paint Thy might of waters, volumed vast and deep; Thy many-toned and all-pervading voice; Thy wood-crown'd Isle, fast anchor'd on the brink Of the dread precipice; thy double stream, Divided, yet in beauty unimpaired; Thy wat'ry caverns and thy crystal walls; Thy crest of sunlight and thy depths of shade, Boiling and seething like a Phlegethon Amid the wind-swept and convolving spray, Steady as Faith and beautiful as Hope.

There, of beam and cloud the fair creation, The rainbow arches its ethereal hues.

From flint and granite in compacture strong, Not with steel thrice harden'd--but with the wave Soft and translucent--did the new-born Time Chisel thy altars. Here hast thou ever poured Earth's grand libation to Eternity; Thy misty incense rising unto G.o.d-- The G.o.d that was and is and is to be."

Mrs. Sigourney wrote the following poem, it is said, during a visit to Table Rock:

"APOSTROPHE TO NIAGARA.

"Flow on, forever, in thy glorious robe Of terror and of beauty. G.o.d has set His rainbow on thy forehead, and the clouds Mantled around thy feet. And He doth give Thy voice of thunder power to speak of Him Eternally, bidding the lip of man Keep silence, and upon thy rocky altar pour Incense of awe-struck praise.

And who can dare To lift the insect trump of earthly hope, Or love, or sorrow, 'mid the peal sublime Of thy tremendous hymn! Even ocean shrinks Back from thy brotherhood, and his wild waves Retire abashed; for he doth sometimes seem To sleep like a spent laborer, and recall His wearied billows from their vieing play, And lull them to a cradle calm: but thou, With everlasting, undecaying tide Dost rest not night nor day.

The morning stars, When first they sang o'er young creation's birth, Heard thy deep anthem; and those wrecking fires That wait the archangel's signal, to dissolve The solid earth, shall find Jehovah's name Graven, as with a thousand spears, On thine unfathomed page. Each leafy bough That lifts itself within thy proud domain Doth gather greenness from thy living spray, And tremble at the baptism. Lo! yon birds Do venture boldly near, bathing their wings Amid thy foam and mist. 'Tis meet for them To touch thy garment here, or lightly stir The snowy leaflets of this vapor wreath, Who sport unharmed on the fleecy cloud, And listen to the echoing gate of heaven Without reproof. But as for us, it seems Scarce lawful with our broken tones to speak Familiarly of thee. Methinks, to tint Thy glorious features with our pencil's point, Or woo thee with the tablet of a song, Were profanation.

Thou dost make the soul A wondering witness of thy majesty; And while it rushes with delirious joy To tread thy vestibule, dost chain its step, And check its rapture, with the humbling view Of its own nothingness, bidding it stand In the dread presence of the Invisible, As if to answer to its G.o.d through thee."

The following lines were written by the late John G. C. Brainard, who never saw the Falls. They were dashed off at a single short sitting, for the head of the literary column of the _Connecticut Mirror_, of Hartford, which he then edited:

"THE FALLS OF NIAGARA.

"The thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain While I look upward to thee. It would seem As if G.o.d pour'd thee from his 'hollow hand'

And hung his bow upon thine awful front, And spoke in that loud voice which seem'd to him Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's sake, 'The sound of many waters,' and had bade Thy flood to chronicle the ages back, And notch his cen'tries in the eternal rocks.