Away and away, and still onward away, And there's ruin and havoc in lowland this day; For the waters brown In their rage tear down, Menacing shipping and threatening the town; They've beat down the weir, And dash'd at each pier, And swept o'er the bank to the widespread mere, Whose icy sheet, As though torn by heat, Has fallen in fragments where torrents meet; While now for the bridge, There's an icy ridge On the river's breast, Swept along by the West, Whose might shall the strong beams and deep piles wrest, Till the bridge goes down, By the flooded town, Where the lowing kine and the penn'd flocks drown. But the damm'd stream rages, For naught assuages Its thirst for ruin; And again undoing The toil of years, It hurries along till the rocks it wears. And now there's a crash and a mighty rattle As a stalwart mound gives the river battle; And soon engaging, The waves leap raging, Where the mound is gash'd, By the churn'd ice dash'd, While from out of the dam, With the force of a ram, Comes each huge, strong beam, On the breast of the stream, With the speed of an arrow, Where the banks are narrow; But the rocky face Stays the furied race, As round it the waters in madness enlace; Lashing and tearing With rage unsparing, To beat down the stay In the deadly fray; And then, for more ruin, to hurry away; But the hill stouthearted The water has parted, And away in a sever'd stream they tear Like famish'd lions fresh from their lair, Devouring, destroying, and bearing away Each barrier, bank, or each timber'd stay; Till they slacken their race by the sandy verge Of the parent sea, whose wild, restless surge Lashes the shore. Towards her breast leap the rivers in eager guise, Lost in the billows that hurrying rise To welcome the treasures they pour. CHAPTER TEN. A HORROR OF HORRORS. "Very, very glad to see you, my boy," said my friend Broxby, as I reached his house quite late on Christmas-eve, when he introduced me to his wife, a most amiable woman of an extremely pleasing countenance; to Major and Mrs Major Carruthers, a very pimply-faced gentleman, with a languishing wife troubled with an obliquity of vision, which worried me greatly that evening from her eye seeming to be gazing upon me, while its owner wore a perpetual smile upon her lip. Mrs Major Carruthers' brother was also there, a young man, like myself, of a poetic turn, and troubled with headaches, besides several others, ladies and gentlemen, who occupied divers relative distances in connection with my friend Broxby and his charming wife.