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164 SONGS FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE.
FALLS IN PARISHVILLE.
'Twas pleasant on those sloping hanks,
Down by that rushing tide, To watch, at daylight's ebbing hour,
The foam-crests roughly glide : High rocks were piled on either side,
Along that sounding shore ; And, while we gazed, e'en thought was lost
In the tumultuous roar.
How beautiful that lovely night,
The wave, the earth, the air! My spirit revel'd deep in bliss .
While I was standing there ; It drank the sweetness of that scene,
The sweetness of that hour, And, list'ning to the foam-white waves,
Felt all their music power!
0! I have gazed on many a scene,
Which might have been as bright; But never had my heart before
So kindled at the sight! Ne'er had I felt the rapt'rous awe,
That so entranced my soul, Bidding successive waves of bliss
In sweetness o'er me roll!