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LIVINGSTONE IN AFRICA.
Down the rock's tremendous face,
Foam-rills, tremulous like lace,
Flow from roots that grasp the place,
To where thy vaporous cauldrons hiss;
But ere they may attain to this,
Smoke roaring, whirl'd from the abyss,
Licks them off precipitous stone,
High into a cloudy zone,
Mosi-oa-tunya!
Water and wind jamm'd in a chasm profound,
Tortured, pent-up, and madden'd, with strong sound
War in world-ruining chaos, fierce rebounding;
A wild tumultuous rumour, earth and heaven confounding.
After, the river rushes, a long green
Serpent, convolved about dark promontories
Of sternest basalt, in the unfathomable
Chasm to and fro, a swift fork'd lightning-flash;
But all the promontories are crown'd with trees,
