| |
| MAJESTIC stream! along thy banks, | |
| In silent, stately, solemn ranks, | |
| The forests stand, and seem with pride | |
| To gaze upon thy mighty tide; | |
| As when, in olden classic time, | 5 |
| Beneath a soft, blue Grecian clime, | |
| Bent o’er the stage, in breathless awe, | |
| Crowds thrilled and trembled, as they saw | |
| Sweep by the pomp of human life, | |
| The sounding flood of passion’s strife, | 10 |
| And the great stream of history | |
| Glide on before the musing eye. | |
| There, row on row, the gazers rise; | |
| Above, look down the arching skies; | |
| O’er all those gathered multitudes | 15 |
| Such deep and voiceful silence broods, | |
| Methinks one mighty heart I hear | |
| Beat high with hope, or quake with fear;— | |
| E’en so yon groves and forests seem | |
| Spectators of this rushing stream. | 20 |
| In sweeping, circling ranks they rise, | |
| Beneath the blue o’erarching skies; | |
| They crowd around and forward lean, | |
| As eager to behold the scene,— | |
| To see, proud river! sparkling wide, | 25 |
| The long procession of thy tide,— | |
| To stand and gaze, and feel with thee | |
| All thy unuttered ecstasy. | |
| It seems as if a heart did thrill | |
| Within yon forests, deep and still, | 30 |
| So soft and ghost-like is the sound | |
| That stirs their solitudes profound. | |
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