In spring of youth it was my lot To haunt of the wide world a spot The which I could not love the less -- So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, And the tall pines that towered around. But when the Night had thrown her pall Upon that spot, as upon all, And the mystic wind went by Murmuring in melody -- Then -- ah then I would awake To the terror of the lone lake. Yet that terror was not fright, But a tremulous delight -- A feeling not the jewelled mine Could teach or bribe me to define -- Nor Love -- although the Love were thine. Death was in that poisonous wave, And in its gulf a fitting grave For him who thence could solace bring To his lone imagining -- Whose solitary soul could make An Eden of that dim lake. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COW IN APPLE TIME by ROBERT FROST ON MY FIRST DAUGHTER by BEN JONSON THE LEADEN-EYED by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY SONNET: ENGLAND by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: FAREWELL DARK by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ST. BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX by PHOEBE CARY |