| |
| PURE as their parent springs! how bright | |
| The silvery waters stretch away, | |
| Reposing in the pleasant light | |
| Of June’s most lovely day. | |
| |
| Curving around the eastern side, | 5 |
| Rich meadows slope their banks, to meet, | |
| With fringe of grass and fern, the tide | |
| Which sparkles at their feet. | |
| |
| Here, busy life attests that toil, | |
| With its quick talisman, has made | 10 |
| Fields green and waving, from a soil | |
| Of rude and savage shade. | |
| |
| While opposite, the forest lies | |
| In giant shadow, black and deep, | |
| Filling with leaves the circling sky, | 15 |
| And frowning in its sleep. | |
| |
| Amid this scene of light and gloom, | |
| Nature with art links hand in hand, | |
| Thick woods beside soft rural bloom, | |
| As by a seer’s command. | 20 |
| |
| Here, waves the grain; here, curls the smoke; | |
| The orchard bends: there, wilds as dark | |
| As when the hermit waters woke | |
| Beneath the Indian’s bark. | |
| |
| Oft will the panther’s startling shriek | 25 |
| With the herd’s quiet lowings swell, | |
| The wolfs fierce howl terrific break | |
| Upon the sheepfold’s bell. | |
| |
| The ploughman sees the wind-winged deer | |
| Dart from his covert to the wave, | 30 |
| And fearless in its mirror clear | |
| His branching antlers lave. | |
| |
| Here, the green headlands seem to meet | |
| So near, a fairy bridge might cross; | |
| There, spreads the broad and limpid sheet | 35 |
| In smooth, unruffled gloss. | |
| |
| Arched by the thicket’s screening leaves, | |
| A lilied harbor lurks below, | |
| Where on the sand each ripple weaves | |
| Its melting wreath of snow. | 40 |
| |
| Hark! like an organ’s tones, the woods | |
| To the light wind in murmurs wake, | |
| The voice of the vast solitudes | |
| Is speaking to the lake. | |
| |
| The fanning air-breath sweeps across | 45 |
| On its broad path of sparkles now, | |
| Bends down the violet to the moss, | |
| Then melts upon my brow. | |
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