noon
AVERY . All night long they heard in the houses beside the shore , Heard , or seemed to hear , through the multitudinous roar , Out of the hell of the rapids as ` twere a lost soul 's cries Heard and could not believe ; and the morning mocked their eyes , Showing where wildest and fiercest the waters leaped up and ran Raving round him and past , the visage of a man Clinging , or seeming to cling , to the trunk of a tree that , caught Fast in the rocks below , scarce out of the surges raught . Was it a life , could it be , to yon slender hope that clung Shrill , above all the tumult the answering terror rang . Under the weltering rapids a boat from the bridge is drowned , Over the rocks the lines of another are tangled and wound , And the long , fateful hours of the morning have wasted soon , As it had been in some blessed trance , and now it is noon . Hurry , now with the raft ! But O , build it strong and stanch , And to the lines and the treacherous rocks look well as you launch Over the foamy tops of the waves , and their foam-sprent sides , Over the hidden reefs , and through the embattled tides , Onward rushes the raft , with many a lurch and leap , -- Lord ! if it strike him loose from the hold he scarce can keep !