With a heart of stone and an eye of fire
Possessed with one wild, one fierce desire
That they her reckless revenge may reap
Where they rest at the foot of Lover's Leap.
Possessed with one wild, one fierce desire
That they her reckless revenge may reap
Where they rest at the foot of Lover's Leap.
She has reached the end of her journey now
And stands alone on the mountain's brow.
Far over the rocks she stoops to lean
What, what has the Indian maiden seen?
For she tears a stone from a broken rift
As large as her swarthy arms can lift,
And stands transfixed on the very edge
Gazing wildly down on the rocky gorge
Where four hundred feet from the mountain's crest
Her lover and rival have paused to rest;
A crash, a cry, a heavy thud—
And the spot is vacant where she stood
And the three lie there in a mangled heap
On the rocks at the foot of Lover's Leap.
And stands alone on the mountain's brow.
Far over the rocks she stoops to lean
What, what has the Indian maiden seen?
For she tears a stone from a broken rift
As large as her swarthy arms can lift,
And stands transfixed on the very edge
Gazing wildly down on the rocky gorge
Where four hundred feet from the mountain's crest
Her lover and rival have paused to rest;
A crash, a cry, a heavy thud—
And the spot is vacant where she stood
And the three lie there in a mangled heap
On the rocks at the foot of Lover's Leap.
Thus the tragic tale of the rock is told
And its romance envelopes the mountain old
And the travelers passing by each day
Look up at the turrets grim and gray
And repeat the tradition whose early fame
Gave the stern old rock its romantic name,
And the grasses fall o'er the rocks below
And gracefully sweep the river's flow,
And the hill-slopes are speckled with grazing flocks,
And the buzzard hovers above the rocks,
And the rock-plants cling and the mosses creep
O'er the storm-scarred ledges of Lover's Leap.
And its romance envelopes the mountain old
And the travelers passing by each day
Look up at the turrets grim and gray
And repeat the tradition whose early fame
Gave the stern old rock its romantic name,
And the grasses fall o'er the rocks below
And gracefully sweep the river's flow,
And the hill-slopes are speckled with grazing flocks,
And the buzzard hovers above the rocks,
And the rock-plants cling and the mosses creep
O'er the storm-scarred ledges of Lover's Leap.
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