. Wayfarings . new yet there fell constraint and charm On sea and shore. He whispered, hissing: See delight Not far, not far!O the sad waves shuddered that midnightAnd rose and moaned at the sudden might Of the hidden bar. Outshrilled a voice above the lash? The bitter mock?Woe! for the waves they flee and flashIn the flood of the moon till they die and crash On the birth-blind rock! 67 NIAGARA FALLS. THE UPPER RAPIDS. Summer has glory and winter has gloom,— Hurry!But ever the rapids, rebelling at and engulf then\selves, flee and entomb,Drawn into the web of the swift-ply
. Wayfarings . new yet there fell constraint and charm On sea and shore. He whispered, hissing: See delight Not far, not far!O the sad waves shuddered that midnightAnd rose and moaned at the sudden might Of the hidden bar. Outshrilled a voice above the lash? The bitter mock?Woe! for the waves they flee and flashIn the flood of the moon till they die and crash On the birth-blind rock! 67 NIAGARA FALLS. THE UPPER RAPIDS. Summer has glory and winter has gloom,— Hurry!But ever the rapids, rebelling at and engulf then\selves, flee and entomb,Drawn into the web of the swift-plying loom,— Hurry! THE FALLS. Supple and sheer the cliff must we spurn. Whither?We rush and we leap, and we overturnDownfalling, downfalling, till dimly we learnOf the Mecca beyond and the Spirit astern. Whither? THE WHIRLPOOL RAPIDS. Up to the surface and up to the sky, Joyful!Sped we are, driven by hopes that are high,Sobbing and laughing—the haven is joyful the journey and joyful the cry: Joyful!. C. von Bodenhausen. Spring Idyl. A FORETASTE OF SPRING. Sweet and golden afternoonOf the infant summer,Joyous one!Merry trills of laughter soonPeep and tremble and embrace,Flee and turn again to raceThrough the sun;Morning, slow old nurse, is lost,Birds and souls and flowers are tostIn the sunlit pentecost,—Winters done! Birds are chirping melodiesMade of clear notes vanishingIn the sky;Yonder hum the yellow bees, Hither sway the tender branches,Mad young winds in avalanchesScurry by;All the flowers bloom with blushing,Rapture through the soul is rushing,Suddenly there comes a hushing,—Night is nigh! 69 CHIME-CHANGES. Sun on the sea and the blue, bhie sky, Sail on! the shore shall be ours by and by, Soon the pilot shall seek us* The sea-pilgrims smile in the eye-kissing light,Who speaks of the silent cloud, sullen and slight? Soo?i the pilot shall seek us. }Singing to sleep turn the scorners of sunrise the ship anchors safe in the strait. Surely the pilot is
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