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The frozen cascade: the bride of the rock.

In beauty perfected, with lavish grace,
She casts herself about his rugged form,
With all her vesture on, of snowy white,
Nor left one pendant out, one dropping pearl.
Could she be fairer? Through her inmost veins
The warm sun searches, as for some weak spot;
But with a pride refined she smileth back:
“I gave myself in beauty to this Rock;
Ancient he is, and reverend and strong;
And I will fringe him with my snowy arms,
And lay my white cheek on his dark gray brow,
Nor ever melt for all thy beaming eyes!”

S. L. H.

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