114
Columbia River.
[Feb.
THE COLUMBIA RIVER.
I.
When June's bright blossoms scent the air,
A silver loop she glides;
Calm, peaceful rest is everywhere,
No turmoil in her tides.
The fisher boat rocked on her heart
At anchor gently moves,
The sea-gulls hover o'er her face
As still as brooding doves.
And mists sweep up, the sun gleams bright,
His beams shed dazzling glory,
Then back again reflect the light
To peaks and mountains hoary;
Kind Nature throws a mantle o'er
Her bosom broad and deep;
The noble fir trees at her brink
Stand motionless, asleep.
Old Ocean, noiseless, joins her flow
With trembling, calm embrace,
No angry billow breaks to show
Their placid meeting-place;
And, over all, the azure sky
Reflects its image clear;
