'Tis pouring, 'tis pouring With a wild eternal roar; Like a sea, that's burst its barriers Resounding evermore: Like an ocean lash'd to fury, And toiling to o'erwhelm With its devastating billows The earth's extended realm. It falleth, still it falleth, A deluge o'er the rocks; It calleth, still it calleth, With tones likes earthquake shocks: For ever and for ever, It sounds its mighty hymn; Like a thousand anthems pealing In some cathedral dim. The dark pines shrink and tremble As o'er the abyss they lean, And falling are ingulf'd like reeds With all their branches green; And oaks from northern mountains, O'erwhelm'd by some fierce blast, Are rent like autumn flowerets, In that vast caldron cast. A thousand years ago the tribes In wonder trod its side: Those tribes have vanish'd, but the Fall Still pours as full a tide; A thousand more may pass away-- A future race of men May view the awful cataract Unchang'd dash down its glen. How passing vain doth mortal pride Beside this torrent seem! An army doth not march to war With half its sound and gleam; While o'er it, like a banner, The rainbow spreads its fold, Colored with prismy glories Of purple and of gold. The wild deer of the forest At the river stoop to drink, But from the rush of waters All panic-stricken shrink; And the mountain eagles sailing O'er the cataract's foaming brim Alarmed, on soaring pinions, Away, o'er Heaven's clouds skim. O! who that views the wonders Of Nature o'er the earth; The high o'erhanging mountains Where thunders have their birth: And this eternal torrent, Majestically grand-- Can doubt the Spirit's presence, And a Creating Hand?