Cataract

Yon’ jagged crevice, looming dark

With shaded earth below,

A cravass deep the mountain parts, 

Earth’s caverns dim to show.

Deep runs a river through the rock,

It rushes through the trees

On mountain’s crags, and shall not stop,

Like winter’s stormy breeze.

On, swift, it charges, deaf’ning loud

O’er stones on river’s bed

To plunge down cliff in palest shroud

To pool at valley’s edge.

Long years the cataract falls fast,

O’er rocky face of flint;

For Time’s long march through decades past

Will not these waters stint.