NIGHT AMONG THE THOUSAND ISLANDS.
99
While silently beneath, the river flows,
Unfathomed, dark, a great resistless tide,
Within its bosom deep the virgin snows
From many a mountain-side.
And, drifting with the current, how we feel
The haunting witchery of Beauty's spell!
The world we left behind seems all unreal,
Where such enchantments dwell.
The vexing cares that overfill our days
Slip stealthily away, and we are wooed
Back to the healing, half-forgotten ways
Of peace and solitude.
