The Lake
In youth's spring, it was my lotTo haunt of the wide earth a spotTo which I could not love the lessSo lovely was the lonelinessOf a wild lake, with black rock boundAnd the tall trees that towered around
But when the night had thrown her pallUpon that spot as upon allAnd the wind would pass me byIn its stilly melody
My infant spirit would awakeTo the terror of the lone lakeMy infant spirit would awakeTo the terror of the lone lake
Yet that terror was not frightBut a tremulous delightAnd a feeling undefinedSpringing from a darkened mindDeath was in that poisoned waveAnd in its gulf a fitting graveFor him who thence could solace bringTo his dark imaginingWhose wildering though could even makeAn Eden of that dim lake
But when the night had thrown her pallUpon that spot as upon allAnd the wind would pass me byIn its stilly melody
My infant spirit would awakeTo the terror of the lone lakeMy infant spirit would awakeTo the terror of the lone lake
Springing from a darkened mindSo lovely was the lonelinessIn youth's spring, it was my lotIn its stilly melodyAn Eden of that dim lakeAn Eden of that dim lakeLone, lone, lonely...