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99
XIX. IN LAKELAND.
Fair mountain lake amid the lonely hills,
Fed by the flowings of a thousand rills,
That flash like silver down the mountain-side,
I watch the shining ripples o'er thee glide,
And peace once more my happy bosom fills.
Fed by the flowings of a thousand rills,
That flash like silver down the mountain-side,
I watch the shining ripples o'er thee glide,
And peace once more my happy bosom fills.
I see thy golden fringe of daffodils,
And hear the low-voiced breeze that through them thrills,
And vexing passions in my heart subside,
Fair mountain lake!
And hear the low-voiced breeze that through them thrills,
And vexing passions in my heart subside,
Fair mountain lake!
A beauty from thy tranquil face distils,
Which the soul's tumult gently soothes and stills;
Ah, would that I could ever here abide,
Close to the dark-blue waters of thy tide,
And wander near thee as my fancy wills,
Fair mountain lake!
Which the soul's tumult gently soothes and stills;
Ah, would that I could ever here abide,
Close to the dark-blue waters of thy tide,
And wander near thee as my fancy wills,
Fair mountain lake!
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