Poems (Barker)/To the Rapids of the St Mary

by Alice J. Green Barker

To the Rapids of the St. Mary.

Oh! laughing waves that leap and run,
And toss your white arms to the sun,
And chase each other one by one,
  Your danger I defied.
Your playful gambols, like a child
That ne'er by earth has been defiled,
Your words of warning, weird and wild,
  I scornfully denied.

I love your dancing waters well,
To me there is a magic spell;
Oh! rapids of St. Mary, tell—
  What is your power?
I love to watch the light canoe,
Guided your swiftest waters through
By hands that, to their task are true,
  In evening hour.

I love to feel the dancing wave,
And know there is a watery grave
So near that only God can save
  From certain death.
When past the sharp and rugged rocks,
Where oft the water rudely mocks
And madly locks and inter-locks,
  We hold our breath.

But still the faithful Indian guide
Knows well the paths, none hath descried
Save those who oft your waters ride
  Without a fear;
And as we catch his earnest eye
Fixed on the waves we dared to try,
How eagerly we question why—
  To him 'tis clear.

Ah! yes, he knows each fatal rock,
And at your waves would only mock,
His boat can bear the rudest shock;
  His arm is strong.
How merrily we dance away,
And whirl and dash like tossing spray!
Delighting with your waves to play,
  And hear their song.

But now our merry ride is o'er,
We only hear the rapids roar
And wonder as we did before
  At your bright dower.
I love your dancing waters well,
O! Rapids of St. Mary, tell—
  Where is your power?