Strong, eager thoughts come crowding to my eyes,
Earnest and swift, like Romans in the race,
As in stern grandeur, looming up the skies,
This Monarch of the Bluffs, with kingly grace,
Stands firmly fixed in his eternal place,
Like the great Samson of the Saguenay,
The stately parent of the giant race
Of mountains, scattered — thick as ocean spray
Sown by the tempest — up this granite-guarded way.