Descriptions of Niagara: Selected from Various Travellers, with Original Additions

Front Cover
The Compiler, 1847 - 180 pages
 

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 94 - Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose : Another side, umbrageous grots and caves Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps Luxuriant ; meanwhile murmuring waters fall Down the slope hills, dispersed, or in a lake, That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams.
Page 34 - Horribly beautiful ! but on the verge, From side to side, beneath the glittering morn, An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge, Like Hope upon a deathbed, and, unworn Its steady dyes, while all around is torn By the distracted waters, bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn ; Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene, Love watching Madness with unalterable mien.
Page 28 - ... rainbows spanning them, a hundred feet below. Still, when the sun is on them, do they shine and glow like molten gold. Still, when the day is gloomy, do they fall like snow, or seem to crumble away like the front of a great chalk cliff, or roll down the rock like dense white smoke. But always does the mighty stream appear to die as it comes down, and always from its unfathomable grave arises that tremendous ghost of spray and mist which is never laid : which has haunted this place with the same...
Page 27 - Then, when I felt how near to my Creator I was standing, the first effect, and the enduring one - instant and lasting - of the tremendous spectacle, was Peace. Peace of Mind, tranquillity, calm recollections of the Dead, great thoughts of Eternal Rest and Happiness: nothing of gloom or terror. Niagara was at once stamped upon my heart, an Image of Beauty; to remain there, changeless and indelible, until its pulses cease to beat, for ever.
Page 37 - THE thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain, While I look upward to thee. It would seem As if God poured thee from his hollow hand, And hung his bow upon thine awful front ; And spoke in that loud voice, which seemed 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 centuries in the eternal rocks.
Page 157 - Have lit their beacons, and the vales below Send up a welcoming : no song of birds, Warbling to charm the air with melody, Floats on the frosty breeze ; yet Nature hath The very soul of music in her looks ! The sunshine and the shade of poetry.
Page 33 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Page 28 - I think in every quiet season now, Still do those waters roll and leap, and roar and tumble, all day long ; still are the rainbows spanning them a hundred feet below ; still, when the sun is on them, do they shine and glow like molten gold ; still, when the day is gloomy, do they fall like snow, or seem to crumble away like the front of a great chalk cliff, or roll down the rock like dense white smoke. But always does the mighty stream appear to die as it comes down, and always from its unfathomable...
Page 174 - Ah, terribly they rage, — The hoarse 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...
Page 160 - Or listen at 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 to the tablet of a song, Were profanation. Thou dost make the soul A wondering witness of thy majesty, But as it presses with delirious joy...

Bibliographic information