I sit upon the rocks that frown Above the rapid...

I sit upon the rocks that frown

Above the rapid Nile;

And on the toil of man look down

With bitter and scornful smile.

My rocks are inaccessible,

And few return their terrors to tell.

My subjects are the birds, whose wings

Never soar'd into other air;

To whose shrill cries each echo rings—

For their nests are hidden there:

They dip their plumes in that mighty river,

Whose course is onward—onward, for ever.

I see the deluge come sweeping on

Where waving corn-fields gleam;

And forests, and cities, and herds are gone,

Like the shadows of a dream:

The rushing tide is an ocean now;

And islands of ruin darken its brow.

But the waters sink, and earth again

Smiles under Nature's gentlest reign:

Where, from scenes of bliss, shall I go?

I—whose existence is terror and woe.

Now I hide in the burning breast

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