All peacefully gliding, the waters dividing,
The indolent batteau moved slowly along;
The rowers, light-hearted, from sorrow long parted,
Beguiled the dull moments with laughter and song:
“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrily
Gambols and leaps on its tortuous way;
Soon, we will enter it, cheerily, cheerily,
Pleased with its freshness, and wet with its spray.”
More swiftly careering, the wild Rapid nearing,
They dash down the stream like a terrified steed;
The surges delight them, no terrors affright them,
Their voices keep pace with their quickening speed:
“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrily
Shivers its arrows against us in play;
Now we have entered it, cheerily, cheerily,
Our spirits as light as its feathery spray.”
Fast downward they’re dashing, each fearless eye flashing,
Though danger awaits them on every side;
Yon rock--see it frowning! they strike--they are drowning!
But downward they speed with the merciless tide.
No voice cheers the Rapid, that angrily, angrily
Shivers their bark in its maddening play;
Gaily they entered it--heedlessly, recklessly,
Mingling their lives with its treacherous spray!