... rudely o'er the rock it gushes, Lost in its everlasting foam; And swift the channeled water rushes, With ceaseless roar and endless storm; And rugged crags, dark, grey, and high, Hang fearful o'er the darkened sky; And o'er the dim and shadowy deep, Yawning, presents a deathful leap. The boy has gained that desperate brink, And not a moment will he think Of all the hopes, and joys, and fears That are entwined in his ... — A Book For The Young • Sarah French
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