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

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

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

lone, lone, lonely...