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(Excerpt)
LAKE of the soft and sunny hills, | |
| What loveliness is thine! | |
| Around thy fair, romantic shore | |
| What countless beauties shine! | |
| Shrined in their deep and hollow urn, | 5 |
| Thy silver waters lie,— | |
| A mirror set in waving gems | |
| Of many a regal dye. | |
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| Like angel faces in a dream, | |
| Bright isles upon thy breast, | 10 |
| Veiled in soft robes of hazy light, | |
| In such sweet silence rest, | |
| The rustle of a bird’s light wing, | |
| The shiver of the trees, | |
| The chime of waves, are all the sounds | 15 |
| That freight the summer breeze. | |
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| Oh, beautiful it is along | |
| Thy silver wave to glide, | |
| And watch the ripples as they kiss | |
| Our tiny vessel’s side; | 20 |
| While ever round the dipping oar | |
| White curls the feathery spray, | |
| Or from its bright suspended point | |
| Drips tinklingly away. | |
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| And pleasant to the heart it is | 25 |
| In those fair isles to stray, | |
| Or Fancy’s idle visions weave | |
| Through all the golden day, | |
| Where dark old trees, around whose stems | |
| Caressing woodbines cling, | 30 |
| O’er mossy, flower-enamelled banks, | |
| Their trembling shadows fling. | |
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| Oh, he who in his daily paths | |
| A weary spirit bears, | |
| Here in these peaceful solitudes | 35 |
| May he lay down his cares: | |
| No echo from the restless world | |
| Shall his repose invade, | |
| Where the spectres of the haunted heart | |
| By Nature’s self are laid. * * * * * | 40 |
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