The luring eddy lies behind
Where the dizzy rafts are whirling,
And we speed along with the cutting wind,
The foam like suds up-curling,
When ahead a sharp curve comes in sight
And we hear the Captain call
As the raft swerves sudden to the right
And the ridges tower tall:
Pull, lads, pull!--to Jersey side!
The Bend I fear!
Pull, lads, pull!--and soon we'll ride
On the rolling wave to Trenton's tide
With river calm and clear.