78 THE FORESTERS. 



There one small pitch o'er broken fragments pour? ; 



Goat-Island next, with oaks and cedars crowned, 



Its shelving base with dwarfish shrubbery bound, 



Along the brink a rocky front extends 



Four hundred yards, and at the Horse-shoe ends.(60) 



There the main forces of the river pour; 



There, fierce above, the rushing rapids roar! 



The mighty wat'ry mass, resistless grown, 



Green down th' impending brink unbroken thrown, 



Whelmed amidst dazzling hills of boiling spray, 



In raging, deafening torrents roars away ! 



One last gTand object(61) yet remained unviewed, 

 Thither we crawl, o'er monstrous fragments rude, 

 Struggling through caverns deep, now prostrate thrown, 

 Now up wet slippery masses clambering on ; v 



Below iii foam, the raging rapids sweep, 

 Ahove, dark hollowed hangs the enormous steep, 

 Seooped out immense; resounding, gloomy, bare, 

 Its giddy verge projected high in air; 

 There such a scene of rage and uproar new, 

 In awful grandeur burst upon our view, 

 As seized, at once, all power of speech away, 

 And filled our souls with terror and dismay. 



Great God of nature! whose blest sun and shower* 

 Called into action these tremendous powers, 

 Where shall my tongue fit force of language find 

 To speak the dread sensations of the mind, 

 When o'er the impending brink, in bounding sweep, 

 The eye pursued this deluge to the deep, 



