The vast single turning of Time
At last will pull to the planet an hour
When the Niagara ceases to grind
A solving chasm between the Lakes
And Erie is lost in Ontario.
Far from the sliding crest and slow
The thunder sounds, where the river breaks
To rainbow spray; nearby there wind
The silent slabs of water that tower
Down the Falls in piles of Time.
How full that silence is! Like mind
That steadies inward, pooled and dark;
Like body assured, so right in act
It moves perpetually at rest-
The peace foreseen of the one lake
These two will become. Though the waters break,
Cleft at the rapids, they close at the crest,
Heaved in the swift course of the cataract.
For the way is absolute where the mark
Is silence. And the river will come to an end.