Eliza Crossing the River
by HARRIET BEECHER STOWE (1811-1894)
From her resting-place by the trader chased,
Through the winter evening cold,
Eliza came with her boy at last,
Where a broad deep river rolled.
Great blocks of the floating ice were there,
And the water’s roar was wild,
But the cruel trader’s step was near,
Who would take her only child.
Poor Harry clung around her neck,
But a word he could not say,
For his very heart was faint with fear,
And with flying all that day.
Her arms about the boy grew tight,
With a loving clasp, and brave;
“Hold fast! Hold fast, now, Harry dear,
And it may be God will save.”
From the river’s bank to the floating ice
She took a sudden bound,
And the great block swayed beneath her feet
With a dull and heavy sound.