76
LIFE AT NIAGARA.
Not a bed to be had, not a chair, or a block,
And the only spare table is old Table Rock.
How glorious a visit, were taverns and gongs
But banished a week to where Fashion belongs,
To tramp through the forest, with no charge of fares,
In a pair of brogans, such as Audubon wears;
To meet a lithe Indian, all stately and stark,
And "put up" a few days in his wigwam of bark;—
Gods! a walk through the woods, by the light of the stars,
Would outweigh all the lamps, and the Lewiston cars!
And the only spare table is old Table Rock.
How glorious a visit, were taverns and gongs
But banished a week to where Fashion belongs,
To tramp through the forest, with no charge of fares,
In a pair of brogans, such as Audubon wears;
To meet a lithe Indian, all stately and stark,
And "put up" a few days in his wigwam of bark;—
Gods! a walk through the woods, by the light of the stars,
Would outweigh all the lamps, and the Lewiston cars!
But here's life at the Falls—from a year to fourscore—
(And I think by the sound there's a day at next door;)
Here are members of Congress, away from their seats,
Though sure to be there when the dinner-gong beats;
Here are waiters, so eager your viands to snatch,
That they leap down the stairs like a multiplied Patch;
To the sound of sweet music they nimbly appear,
And whisk off your corn while they tickle your ear.
Here are pensive young preachers, dressed quite comme il faut,
In coats black as night, and cravats pure as snow;
(And I think by the sound there's a day at next door;)
Here are members of Congress, away from their seats,
Though sure to be there when the dinner-gong beats;
Here are waiters, so eager your viands to snatch,
That they leap down the stairs like a multiplied Patch;
To the sound of sweet music they nimbly appear,
And whisk off your corn while they tickle your ear.
Here are pensive young preachers, dressed quite comme il faut,
In coats black as night, and cravats pure as snow;
