I too have seen thy ever-pouring flood,
Mightiest of cataracts, Niagara!
Have seen thy restless waters rush away,
And on thy beetling rock alone have stood,
And seen the morning sunbeams paint thy spray,
And countless rainbows on thy light mist play;
And I have walked along thy field of blood,
Whereon the free invaders stood at bay,
And, mantled in the shadow of the night,
Infuriate warriors wrestled in the fight,
The pale moon weeping o’er the mortal fray;
And I have gazed, from Queenston’s hallowed height,
On river, lake, and plain, in sunset bright,
Gilt streams, dark woods, blue waves in sweet array:
And hither, as the years shall roll away,
The pilgrim of our land shall fondly hie,
And here the tribute of his heart shall pay,
And kneel before the shrine of God and liberty.
Source: James Gates Percival. The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival. Boston: Ticknor and Fields, 1859.