 | [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet |  |
THE ENCHANTED LAKE
[_]
Based on the story of a lake near Bergen, Norway, near which a sentinel was always posted to keep people from their desire to throw themselves in.
(The poem opens with the picture of a maiden in distress. She questions the guardian regarding the fate of a young man who she believes may have met his death there. The guard answers in the affirmative.)
Naught she spoke, but eye and brow
Told that madness ruled her now,
With a bound that mocked the arm,
Vainly raised to snatch from harm,
She hath reached the shivered steep,
Bending o'er the gloomy deep.
Phrensied joy was in her eye—
Wild the cliffs gave back her cry.
“Love! prepare a place for me,
Quickly, for I come to thee!”
Aged man! thy toil is vain.
Yonder cliff thou canst not gain.
Turn thee now—the deed is o'er,
She hath sunk to rise no more.
Told that madness ruled her now,
With a bound that mocked the arm,
Vainly raised to snatch from harm,
She hath reached the shivered steep,
Bending o'er the gloomy deep.
Phrensied joy was in her eye—
Wild the cliffs gave back her cry.
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Quickly, for I come to thee!”
Aged man! thy toil is vain.
Yonder cliff thou canst not gain.
Turn thee now—the deed is o'er,
She hath sunk to rise no more.
Weep not thou, of locks so grey,
Though the lovely pass away,
Dearer far than life to her,
Was the watery sepulchre,
Where the youth she loved so well,
'Neath its dark enchantment fell.
Peace to them! and be their sleep
Tranquil in that silent deep—
Waveless, tideless, tho' it be,
Never swept by breezes free,
Tho' no bird with sweeping wing,
Shadow o'er its waters bring,
Still shall be that silent lake,
Sacred for the sleeper's sake.
Though the lovely pass away,
Dearer far than life to her,
Was the watery sepulchre,
Where the youth she loved so well,
'Neath its dark enchantment fell.
Peace to them! and be their sleep
Tranquil in that silent deep—
Waveless, tideless, tho' it be,
Never swept by breezes free,
Tho' no bird with sweeping wing,
Shadow o'er its waters bring,
Still shall be that silent lake,
Sacred for the sleeper's sake.
Stanzas 4, 5, 6 Haverhill Gazette, April 12, 1828
| [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet | |