O Lake of sylvan shore! when gentle Spring Slopes down upon thee from the mountain side, When birds begin to build and brood and sing; Or, in maturer season, when the pied And fragrant turf is thronged with blossoms rare; In the frore sweetness of the breathing morn, When the loud echoes of the herdsman's horn Do sally forth upon the silent air Of thy thick forestry, may I be there, While the wood waits to see its phantom born At clearing twilight, in thy glassy breast; Or, when cool eve is busy, on thy shores, With trails of purple shadow from the West, Or dusking in the wake of tardy oars | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 5. THE STEVEDORES by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER TO MADAME DE SEVIGNE by MATHIEU DE MONTREUIL HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 8. BRENNBAUM by EZRA POUND PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 94. AL-HADI by EDWIN ARNOLD REPRISALS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET TO AN ENEMY by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH THE SHEPHERD'S PIPE: FIRST ECLOGUE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |