In mists, the bridal veil full falls
In shaded woods of temp’rate clime
Amid the din of avian calls
Where nature forges form sublime
First gentle,
Waters wend their course
Then scour the rocks in savage flow
To crash to earth with thund’ring force
Upon tumultuous swirl below
Oh irony! Such sheer tumult
Should scenes of tranquil peace preface
When there displayed, as wry result
A gossamer of bridal lace
A Waterfall
