A REMINISCENCE OF COOPER
Blank shadow here.  The heights on either hand
Sparkle with lamps.  Around me foams the bold,
Loud Hudson,—swiftly into darkness rolled.
Those vanish all, and Memory takes her stand
In that wild cave among that famous band,
Girt round by unseen terrors manifold,
Revealed in that enchanting fiction old,
Blown hence through many an alien tongue and land.
I see the haughty Uncas, and the wise,
Grim Sagamore; hear Hawkeye's cheery call;
The singer's strains, of sacred sounds compact;
And then I hear the holy hymn arise
From the sweet Sister's lips; and, borne through all,
The plunge and tremble of the cataract.