* * * * * "Dread torrent, that with wonder and with fear Dost overwhelm the soul of him who looks Upon thee, and dost bear it from itself,-- Whence hast thou thy beginning? Who supplies, Age after age, thy unexhausted springs? What power hath ordered that, when all thy weight Descends into the deep, the swollen waves Rise not and roll to overwhelm the earth? "The Lord hath opened his omnipotent hand, Covered thy face with clouds and given his voice To thy down-rushing waters: he hath girt Thy terrible forehead with his radiant bow. I see thy never-resting waters run, And I bethink me how the tide of time Sweeps to eternity." The lyric from which the following extracts are taken was written by Mr. A. S. Ridgely, of Baltimore, Md.: "Man lays his scepter on the ocean waste, His footprints stiffen in the Alpine snows, But only God moves visibly in thee, O King of Floods! that with resistless fate Down plungest in thy mighty width and depth. * * * Amazement, terror, fill, Impress and overcome the gazer's soul. Man's schemes and dreams and petty littleness Lie open and revealed. Himself far less-- Kneeling before thy great confessional-- Than are the bubbles of the passing tides. Words may not picture thee, nor pencil paint Thy might of waters, volumed vast and deep; Thy many-toned and all-pervading voice; Thy wood-crown'd Isle, fast anchor'd on the brink Of the dread precipice; thy double stream, Divided, yet in beauty unimpaired; Thy wat'ry caverns and thy crystal walls; Thy crest of sunlight and thy depths of shade, Boiling and seething like a Phlegethon Amid the wind-swept and convolving spray, Steady as Faith and beautiful as Hope. There, of beam and cloud the fair creation, The rainbow arches its ethereal hues. From flint and granite in compacture strong, Not with steel thrice harden'd--but with the wave Soft and translucent--did the new-born Time Chisel thy altars. Here hast thou ever poured Earth's grand libation to Eternity; Thy misty incense rising unto God-- The God that was and is and is to be." Mrs. Sigourney wrote the following poem, it is said, during a visit to Table Rock: "APOSTROPHE TO NIAGARA.