Something supernatural in their confused murmur; it makes me better understand and sympathize with the writer of the Apocalypse when he speaks of the voice of many waters, heaping image upon image, to impart the vigor of his conception.
"Through yonder elm-branches I catch a few snowy glimpses of foam in the air.

See that spray and vapor rolling up the evergreen on my left The two side precipices, one hundred feet apart and excluding objects of inferior moment, darken and concentrate the view.

The waters between pour over the right-hand and left-hand summit, rushing down and uniting among the craggiest and abruptest of rocks.

Oh for a whole mountain- side of that living foam! The sun impresses a faint prismatic hue.
These falls, compared with those of the Missouri, are nothing,--nothing but the merest miniature; and yet they assist me in forming some conception of that glorious expanse.
"A fragment of an oak, struck off by lightning, struggles with the current midway down; while the shattered trunk frowns above the desolation, majestic in ruin.

This is near the southern cliff.