Sleep, sleep, Niagara, deep beneath the ice;
Your native thunder quell, that peace may reign
About your mammoth frame; let calm entice
Your weary waters, evermore a fane
For weary hearts to perch, spellbound in awe:
Carve caverns from the layered ice and snow,
That out the gap you breathe both rough and raw;
Along your sides let chilly north winds blow,
And cystallize the limbs of every tree
Guarding the lofty borders of your brim;
Let famished seagulls from your chill face flee,
That nothing stay the zealous eye to skim
Your placid whiteness, lost in rare displays
Of wonder, dreamy scenes for all to praise.
Source: The author, 2001.