Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Americas: Vol. XXX. 1876–79.
Cadaraqui
By Thomas Moore (17791852)I
Had filled its circle, I should wander here
In musing awe; should tread this wondrous world,
See all its store of inland waters hurled
In one vast volume down Niagara’s steep,
Or calm behold them, in transparent sleep,
Where the blue hills of old Toronto shed
Their evening shadows o’er Ontario’s bed;
Should trace the grand Cadaraqui, and glide
Down the white rapids of his lordly tide
Through massy woods, mid islets flowering fair,
And blooming glades, where the first sinful pair
For consolation might have weeping trod,
When banished from the garden of their God.
O Lady! these are miracles, which man,
Caged in the bounds of Europe’s pygmy span,
Can scarcely dream of,—which his eye must see
To know how wonderful this world can be!
And night falls dewy o’er these banks of pine.
Among the reeds, in which our idle boat
Is rocked to rest, the wind’s complaining note
Dies like a half-breathed whispering of flutes;
Along the wave the gleaming porpoise shoots,
And I can trace him, like a watery star,
Down the steep current, till he fades afar
Amid the foaming breakers’ silvery light,
Where yon rough rapids sparkle through the night.