Category: Religious poetry

Ode to Niagara by William Chambers Wilbor

wilbor
Panorama view of Niagara Falls, river and gorge, from Victoria Park, Canada, 1913, by David Ellis. Courtesy of the Library of Congress

From far-famed lofty Table Rock, in wide-
Extending vision, I behold, entranced,
The magnitude and symmetry of thy
Proportions. In one grand panoramic
Picture thou stretchest out before me — thy
Spacious overflowing gulf, thy distant
Falling flood, an avalanche of silver
Sheen, thy wooded islands’ intervening
Crags, and, near at hand, thy massive bending
Horseshoe : while far above the ascending
Rapids thy broad expanse of azure waves
Blend with the skies which frame the inspiring scene.

Long ages past, when the primeval woods
Sheltered thy banks, and fierce barbaric tribes
Threaded the forest trails to look on thee
And listen to thy voice, they felt in their
Untutored hearts the presence here of the
Great Spirit brooding o’er thy heights sublime
And foaming depths profound.

‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡Fit temple art
Thou for the living God. Nature perpetual
Sabbath keeps within thy precincts, and man’s
Soul, awed by the thunder of thy deep tones,
Hushes the discords of a world of strife
And, low before the universe’s King,
In spirit worships and with him communes.

Cool breezes blow thy mists between thee and
Mine eyes, yet, by thy roar, I surely know
Thou rollest on in that uneven course through
Which thy way hast led long eons while the
Feet of those who on thee gaze forever
Vanish from thy side. Vapors are transient.
Soon the sun’s warm rays suspend before thy
Face serene a double rainbow. Lo, the
Zephyrs die, all clouds disperse, and thy clear
Sapphire-emerald blending hues gleam fresh and
Bright in the transparent air.

‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡Upon the
Calm, still bosom of thy stream the gliding,
Flashing waters flow, with ever-quickening
Pace, to make the awful plunge of thy vast
Cataract; then, placid for a while, press
On impetuous downward through thy gorge, ‘twixt
Palisades of high-built walls of rock, like
Herds of wild unbridled steeds rearing and
Rushing on through eddying whirlpool’s mad
Uproarious waves, till they find rest at
Length in the smooth deeps of plains beyond,
And fall asleep in blue Ontario.

Poised in the path of thy swift-flowing surge
Enchanting isles divide thy fleet cascades
And hang suspended on the dizzy edge
Of towering precipice and beetling cliff.
Secluded dells, ‘neath grateful shade of trees
With many a winding way ‘mid fairy
Bowers, are decked with feathery foliage
Of silver birch and spruce. Festooning vines
Of the wild grape there diadem thy brows
With verdant chaplets twined with sylvan grace.

Within this paradise restored the mind
May think upon thy gentler, softer lines
As, far below, upon thy splendor and
Sublimity, it views the no less skillful
Handiwork of God, and lauds his boundless
Wisdom and love of all things beautiful.

Within thy drenched and gloomy Cave of Winds
I hear, appalled, the loud and dreadful crash
And uproar of thy frightful leap, and learn
Anew thy measureless and matchless power.
Like liquid veil thy crystal deluge falls
With headlong speed and far-resounding rage,
Dashing its weight of water on shattered
Trembling ledge of stone, escapes in glistening
Effervescent surf, and whirls along to
Join the fleeing billows which haste away
From the dread home of chaos and dispute.

The Rock of Ages rising at thy feet.
Where strike most furiously thy ponderous blows,
Bears all the swellings of thy tempest great
Unmoved. It braves the o’erwhelming shock
And stands for aye the symbol of that Rock
Which holds the Christian faith secure and strong
‘Mid ceaseless conflicts in a realm of doubt.

Thou hast for me a weird, unearthly charm
At midnight, when thy melody has lulled
To rest the multitudes who throng thy side
By day. Then the faint gleam of twinkling stars
And crescent moon their dim rays shed upon
Thy curved crest, and weave a halo soft,
Unknown to glaring light, which crowns thee with
A mystic glory and a shadowy glow.

There in the solitude and on the brink
Of thy unseen abyss, with darkness filled.
The sound of many waters and the ghostly
Sheet of foam about thee, are speech and forms
Of other worlds to me. Amazed, and with
‘Bated breath, I seem to stand, upon the
Verge of time, alone with thy Creator.

Thy strange caprice in winter I behold
With admiration and surprise as, of
Thy cloudlike spray frozen to Parian
Marble, thou carvest images grotesque,
And, drooping from laden branch of tree and
Shrub, thou hangest wreaths of ivory and
Coral white, and drap’st with purity all
That yield to the influence of thy magic spell.
While, at the foot of thy great waterfall,
There grows from day to day, an icy mount
Almost to level of thine altitude.
While, far beneath thy jagged bridge of ice,
Which spans thy hidden bed; thou hurriest on,
Resisting all constraint of frost and snow.

Eternity is symboled in thy strong,
Full, ceaseless life through an unmeasured flight
Of years. A hand omnipotent, from earth’s
Reservoirs exhaustless, pours within the
Brimming shores of thy swift, unresting waves
Floods ever full yet ever new supplied.
Thou teachest all who come to learn of thee
The endless length and breadth and depth and height
Of beauty, grandeur, and of power divine.

Thou runnest on unchanged by aught that e’er
Transpires among the races of the earth.
Kings rise to power and pass away. Armies
Are mustered in, and nations’ destinies
Are sealed upon the battlefields where they
Forever disappear. Generations
Come and go unheeded and unmarked by
Thee, as, ever moving on, defiant of
The lapse of time, thy rugged stream flows through
The long unnumbered centuries the same.

Source: William Chambers Wilbor.  Ode to Niagara. Buffalo: C.E. Brinkworth, 1907

Also published in his Ode to Niagara and Other Poems. New York: Eaton & Mains; Cincinnati: Jennings & Graham, 1911.
(Some punctuation differs in this edition)

Niagara by Benjamin Copeland

copeland
Niagara Falls, From International Bridge, c1905. Courtesy of Library of Congress

Majestic symbol of eternal power !
‡‡Dread oracle of eons all unknown !
Before thy presence Pomp and Passion cower, —
‡‡All men are equal at thy awful throne.

Abashed, the eager babble of the mart, —
‡‡To silence shamed, the vulgar greed for gain ;
No more ambition goads the weary heart,
‡‡And Toil forgets its unrequited pain.

Stern type of Truth’s inexorable law !
‡‡No room remains for envy or for pride ;
Here prince and pauper stand in common awe,
‡‡Swayed by the spell of thy resistless tide.

A rushing, seething Sinai, — thou dost pour
‡‡On sluggish consciences the solemn sense
Of justice infinite : — thy thunder’s roar
‡‡Declares to Wrong relentless recompense.

Against our arrogance thy strength doth plead ;
‡‡Deep unto deep Imperiously calls ;
Impartial annalist ! the nations read
‡‡Their transient glory on thy ageless walls.

Yet dost thou deign to dower the moment’s need, —
‡‡Our dreams exceeding by thy bounteous sway ;
With power unrivaled thy proud flood shall speed
‡‡The New World’s progress toward Time’s perfect day.

O mighty monitor ! O seer sublime !
‡‡The soul’s surpassing grandeur thou dost show ; —
The fountains of thy immemorial prime
‡‡Through man’s immortal being freely flow.

Source:  Benjamin Copeland.  Niagara, and Other Poems. Buffalo: The Matthews-Northrup Works, 1904

Dr. Benjamin Copeland (1854-1940) was a Methodist minister in Buffalo, New York. He founded three Methodist churches in that city and was the author of four volumes of poetry.

Read about Copeland here

Niagara Falls by Thomas Frederick Young

young
Horseshoe Fall, Niagara, Seen From Below on the Canadian Side by an unknown artist. Colour tint by Erna Jahnke. Courtesy of the Niagara Falls Public Library

Niagara, thou mighty flood,
I’ve seen thee fall, I’ve heard thee roar,
And on the frightful verges stood,
That overhang thy rocky shore.

I’ve sailed o’er surging waves below,
And view’d the rainbow’s colour’d light,
And felt the spray, thy waters throw,
When leaping, with resistless might.

I’ve seen the rapids in their course,
Like madden’d, living things rush on,
With wild, unhesitating force,
To where thy mighty chasms yawn.

And there to take the awful leap,
And fall, with hoarse and sullen roar,
Into th’ unfathomable deep,
Which rolleth on, from shore to shore.

Niagara, thou’rt mighty, grand,
Thou fill’st human souls with awe,
For thee, and for that mighty Hand,
Which maketh thee, by nature’s law.

Thou’rt great, thou mighty, foaming mass
Of water, plunging, roaring down,
But so are we, yea, we surpass
Thee, and we wear a nobler crown.

Thy mighty head is crowned with foam,
And rainbows wreathe thy robes of blue ;
Our earthly forms — our present home —
Are insignificant to you.

But look, thou mighty thund’rer, thou,
Tho’ puny be our forms to thine,
These forms possess, yea, even now,
A spark, a ray of life divine.

Rush on, O waters ! proudly hurl
Thyself to roaring depths below,
And let the mists of ages curl,
And generations come and go.

But know, stupendous wonder, know,
Thy rocks would crumble, at the nod
Of Him, who lets thy waters flow ;
Thy Maker, but our Friend and God.

Thy rocks shall crumble, fall they must ;
Thy waters, then, shall plunge no more,
But we shall rise, e’en from the dust,
To live upon another shore.

Source: T.F. Young.  Canada, and Other Poems. Toronto: Hunter, Rose & Co., Printers, 1887

Niagara: A Poem by Rev. C.H.A. Bulkley

Bulkley ‘s poem is 132 pages long, followed by copious notes about religious references and history and descriptions of the events described in the poem. The full text of the poem can be found on the Hathi Trust site:

 

From Charles Mason Dow’s Anthology and Bibliography of Niagara Falls (p. 742-743):

The author tells us that these 3,600 lines are an attempt to answer the demand for a ” poem of more than ordinary length, truly American in its character ” on Niagara Falls. He says that his ” object has been not so much to describe at length the scenery of Niagara, in order to excite emotions in the reader similar to those of the beholder, for this would be vain endeavor, as to give a transcript of what passes through the mind of one who is supposed to witness so grand an achievement of nature.” The poem is tedious, with commonplace intervals, although it occasionally rises to the heights of true poetry. The analysis which follows gives an idea of the ambition and scope of the undertaking.

Analysis

Introductory apostrophe — themes proposed. Apostrophe to the Fall as a vast form of life. The presence-chamber of God. A knight-errant. Restless spirits. The streams — their lament — its uselessness. The Torrent like Time. A mourner over men and nations. The Indian — his chase — his death-song — his fall. Apostrophe to the Cataract as a Destroyer — an Historian — a warning Prophet — an oracle of Truth — a Chronicler undying — a tireless Laborer — and unswayed by man. The islands — refuge-spots — so are some hearts. Winter — the Fall ice-imprisoned. Spring — with a song of Liberty. Apostrophe to Niagara River — passage down its banks. The Cliffs — Death of Hungerford. The Cave of the Winds. The Pinnacle-Rock. The Whirlpool. Apostrophe to the Fall respecting its origin and early life. The Fall’s Invocation to the Creative Spirit for the Seasons. Evening and Night. The Hermit of the Fall — his birth-place and character — his strain — his melancholy and aspirations — his strife, disappointment, doom, fearful deed, remorse, and death. The Fall a witness of Redemption. Sunrise — typical of Genius. Hymn of Praise. Noon. The Flood’s Invocation. Poet. Musician. The Table- Rock. Beneath the Sheet. The Cataract’s hymn to the Creator. Proof of Deity. The Doom of Time, with the Flood’s death-dirge and fall. The Farewell to the Cataract.

A selection from the poem by Bulkley chosen by Dow:

Spirit of the Fall

What towering form erects its figure here,
To check the footsteps of inquiring man,
As if it were a sentry at his post,
To guard with faithfulness the narrow pass?
It is the Rock of Manitou, the Pinnacle
On which the gloomy spirit of the Fall,
Sits brooding o’er the tide below, that shows
His fearful frowns reflected in its wave,
Or feels the movements of his busy hand
Searching its depths and torturing its course,
Till its full currents reel in conscious pain!

How high the Water-God his altar rears
With jagged summits from a liquid base!
How green the moss that decks its time-worn crown,
Like youthful forms that cluster round old age !
From yonder cliff, impending o’er the stream
With shadowy fringes of the evergreen,
This massive pile, like an inverted cone,
Seems hurled in other years with giant hand,
Upon the kindred masses dashed below!

Source: Rev. C.H.A. Bulkley.  Niagara. A Poem. New York: Leavitt, Trow & Co., 1848

Spirit of the Fall is also published in Rhine, Alice Hyneman. Niagara Park illustrated : original and selected, descriptions, poems and adventures. New York: Niagara Pub. Co., 1885; New York: William T. Hunter, 1888

To Niagara by G.D. Canale

canale
Terrapin Point by Ferdinand Richardt, c1856. Courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library

Niagara! As I look upon thy ever-foaming
‡‡and ever-rushing waters, my heart is filled
‡‡with awe and admiration.
Thou standest as a wonder of Ages, to which
‡‡man may look and discern the overruling
‡‡power of Him who governs the Universe.
When the steamer, from the pure and clear waters
‡‡of the Ægean sea bore me to Patmos,
There I beheld the very spot where John heard
‡‡the voice of God, as the “sound of many
‡‡waters ;”
And now, as I hear  “the sound of many waters,”
‡‡I am amazed and trembled ! Thy
‡‡voice, O Niagara, is Jehovah’s voice!
I heard many seas roaring, and powerfully beating
‡‡our frail bark.
I heard the mighty waves of the Ocean in their
‡‡greatest fury dash and roar.
But thy thunder-like voice surpasses all. Unrivalled
‡‡stands thy majestic tone!
Let me admire thee, 0 monument of unsurpassed
‡‡greatness, let me drink of thy crystal
‡‡waters.
Many sad and pleasant recollections cluster
‡‡around thy watery grave! Who ever thought
‡‡that I would look upon thy mighty cataracts ?
That I would see the tri-colored-diadem which
‡‡the sun daily lays upon thy imperial brow!,
But alas ! I must leave thee! Other places
‡‡invite me, farewell ! thy voice, O Niagara !
‡‡shall for ever ring in my ears.
May thy waters roll on for ever, to charm others,
‡‡and enchant them with a view of thee,
‡‡which so many desire to see.
And if I return to my native land, and visit
‡‡again Athens and the shores of fair Pallas,
There amidst those classic scenes, I shall remember,
‡‡O Niagara, with undying affection,
‡‡the pleasant moments I spent upon thy eternal banks!

Canale first published this poem in the Boston Journal, July 10, 1858

Source: Robert S. Littell (ed.)  The Living Age August 28, 1858 (vol. 58)

From The Boston Journal:

NIAGARA FALLS IN HELLENIC BALLAD

Mr. Canale, a Greek gentleman residing in this city, has kindly furnished to us a literal translation of a Greek lyric poem which he wrote while viewing “Niagara Falls.” The poem is marked for its simplicity and beauty, and although the translation presents but a very faint picture of the original, depriving it of the harmony and the onomatopoetic structure upon which so much of the beauty of lyric poetry depends, still we publish it with pleasure, being the first time, so far as we know, that Niagara the “wonder of the world,” has been immortalized in the language of Pindar.

The original poem, we understand , has been forwarded to be published in one of the Athenian Magazines.