  By old Owl's Head on Memphremagog's side, In hammock-nook 'midst scenery wild and bold, The spirit of the waters, as of old, Broods o'er my soul, its secrets to confide, It whispers of the anguish, joy, and pride, The heart of man has on its bosom told; And hails as conqueror Him who once did hold Its heart in peace when tempest-tossed and tried. Loved spirit of the waters, we too hail The power of Him who walked the holy sea Were harder to believe than victory. May He who conquered wildest Nature's heart His infinite power and rest to us impart! August, 1891. |
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