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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=427399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Niagara</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I. <br> <br>ROAR, raging torrent! and thou, mighty river, <br>Pour thy white foam on the valley below; <br>Frown, ye dark mountains! and shadow for ever <br>The deep rocky bed where the wild rapids flow. <br>The green sunny glade, and the smooth flowing fountain, <br>Brighten the home of the coward and slave; <br>The flood and the forest, the rock and the mountain, <br>Rear on their bosoms the free and the brave. <br> <br>II. <br> <br>Nurslings of nature, I mark your bold bearing, <br>Pride in each aspect and strength in each form, <br>Hearts of warm impulse, and souls of high daring, <br>Born in the battle and rear'd in the storm. <br>The red levin flash and the thunder's dread rattle, <br>The rock-riven wave and the war trumpet's breath, <br>The din of the tempest, the yell of the battle, <br>Nerve your steeled bosoms to danger and death. <br> <br>III. <br> <br>High on the brow of the Alps' snowy towers <br>The mountain Swiss measures his rock-breasted moors, <br>O'er his lone cottage the avalanche lowers, <br>Round its rude portal the spring-torrent pours. <br>Sweet is his sleep amid peril and danger, <br>Warm is his greeting to kindred and friends, <br>Open his hand to the poor and the stranger, <br>Stern on his foeman his sabre descends. <br> <br>IV. <br> <br>Lo! where the tempest the dark waters sunder <br>Slumbers the sailor boy, reckless and brave, <br>Warm'd by the lighting and lulled by the thunder, <br>Fann'd by the whirlwind and rock'd on the wave; <br>Wildly the winter wind howls round his pillow, <br>Cold on his bosom the spray showers fall; <br>Creaks the strained mast at the rush of the billow, <br>Peaceful he slumbers, regardless of all. <br> <br>V. <br> <br>Mark how the cheek of the warrior flushes, <br>As the battle drum beats and the war torches glare; <br>Like a blast of the north to the onset he rushes, <br>And his wide-waving falchion gleams brightly in air. <br>Around him the death-shot of foemen are flying, <br>At his feet friends and comrades are yielding their breath; <br>He strikes to the groans of the wounded and dying, <br>But the war cry he strikes with is, 'conquest or death!' <br> <br>VI. <br> <br>Then pour thy broad wave like a flood from the heavens, <br>Each son that thou rearest, in the battle's wild shock, <br>When the death-speaking note of the trumpet is given, <br>Will charge like thy torrent or stand like thy rock. <br>Let his roof be the cloud and the rock be his pillow, <br>Let him stride the rough mountain, or toss on the foam, <br>He will strike fast and well on the field or the billow, <br>In triumph and glory, for God and his home!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Joseph+Rodman+Drake">Joseph Rodman Drake</a><div class=q>
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ROAR, raging torrent! and thou, mighty river, 
Pour thy white foam on the valley below; 
Frown, ye dark mountains! and shadow for ever 
The deep rocky bed where the wild rapids flow. 
The green sunny glade, and the smooth flowing fountain, 
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