The Lake

In youth's spring, it was my lot To haunt of the wide earth a spot To which I could not love the less So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound And the tall trees that towered around But when the night had thrown her pall Upon that spot as upon all And the wind would pass me by In its stilly melody My infant spirit would awake To the terror of the lone lake My infant spirit would awake To the terror of the lake Yet that terror was not fright But a tremulous delight And a feeling undefined Springing from a darkened mind Death was in that poisoned wave And in its gulf a fitting grave For him who thence could solace bring To his dark imagining Whose wildering thought could even make An Eden of that dim lake But when the night had thrown her pall Upon that spot as upon all And the wind would pass me by In its stilly melody My infant spirit would awake To the terror, the lone lake My infant spirit would awake To the terror, the lone lake My infant spirit would awake To the terror of the lake Springing from a darkened mind So lovely was the loneliness In youth's spring, it was my lot In its stilly melody An Eden of that dim lake An Eden of that dim lake Lone, lone, lonely Lone, lone, lonely Lone, lone, lonely