CHAPTER Eighth.
THE ROAD-SIDE BAPTISM.
How beautiful the water is! To me 'tis wondrous fair; No spot can ever lonely be, If water sparkle there.
It hath a thousand tongues of mirth, Of grandeur, or delight, And every heart is gladder made When water greets the sight.
MRS.

E.O.

SMITH.
Sweet one! make haste, and know Him too; Thine own adopting Father love; That, like thine earliest dew, Thy dying sweets may prove.
KEBLE.
We were about to turn a corner in a defile of the mountains, and a large perpendicular buttress of the ridge stood out, so as nearly to close up the road.

It presented a surface of about twenty feet directly in front, as we drove up, and, from the top, which was nearly a hundred and twenty feet from the ground, a cascade fell into the air for about forty feet, and, without touching anything, became dishevelled, and disappeared in mist.
It was one of the most beautiful objects which I ever saw.

It was pure white, relieved against the wet and very black rock.