THE RIVER SAGUENAY.


Few poets yet in praise of thee
Have tuned a passing lay,
Yet art thou rich in beauties stern,
Thou dark browed Saguenay!

And those grand charms that surely form
For earth her rarest crown
On thee, with strangely lavish hand,
Have all been showered down.

Thine own wild flood, so deep, so dark;
That holds the gaze enthralled
As if by some weird spell, at once
Entranced yet not appalled;

Seeking in vain to pierce those depths,
Where wave and rock have met,
Those depths which, by the hand of man,
Have ne'er been fathomed yet.

And then thy shores--thy rock bound shores,
Where giant cliffs arise,
Raising their untrod, unknown heights
Defiant to the skies,

And casting from their steep, stern brows
Shadows of deepest gloom