Among the heathy hills and ragged woods
The roaring Fyers pours his mossy floods;
Tillfull he dashes on the rocky mounds,
Where, thro’ a shapeless breach, his stream resounds.
As high in airthe bursting torrents flow,
As deep recoiling surges foam below,
Prone down the rockthe whitening sheet descends,
And viewles Echo’s ear, astonished, rends.
Dim-seen, throughrising mists and ceaseless show’rs,
The hoary cavern, wide surrounding lours:
Still thro’ the gap the struggling river toils,
And still, below, the horrid cauldronboils
