Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE LAKE, by ALPHONSE MARIE LOUIS DE PRAT LAMARTINE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE LAKE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Must we for ever to some distant clime
Last Line: "here, two fond lovers strayed."
Subject(s): Lakes; Time; Pools; Ponds


Must we for ever to some distant clime
Drift through the night despairingly away?
And can we never on the sea of
Time Cast anchor for a day?

O Lake! a year hath passed with all its pain,
And, by the waves she hoped once more to see,
Here, on this stone, I seat myself again,
But ask not where is she?

Thus didst thou murmur in thy rocky caves,
On their torn flanks thy waters thus did beat,
While the gay Zephyr flung thy foaming waves
Around her fairy feet.

One summer eve we floated from thy shores,
Dost thou recall it? Not a sound was heard,
Save when the measured cadence of our oars
The dreamy silence stirred.

Then tones more sweet than earth shall ever hear,
Sweet tones that never will be heard again,
Woke slumbering echoes round the haunted mere
That listened to the strain,

"O blissful Time! suspend thy flight,
Dear hours, prolong your stay,
And let us taste the fleet delight
Of this enchanting day.

Alas! too many filled with woe
Thy tardiness regret;
For these, outstrip the winds, but oh!
Earth's happy ones forget!

I ask some moments more, in vain—
Time's wings more swiftly fly:
'O rapturous eve,' I sigh, 'remain,'—
Lo! night is in the sky.

Come, let us love—the minutes flee—
Love may not long abide;
Time's river knows no ebb, and we
Drift onward with the tide."

O jealous Time, say, why must hours like these,
That thrill the heart with youthful passion's glow,
Take wing more quickly on the summer breeze
Than dismal hours of woe?

Can we not fix one joyous moment's trace,
Must it from earth be cancelled evermore!
Shall Time each record of our love efface,
Refusing to restore?

O grand Eternity! O solemn Past!
Ye, whose abyss engulfs our little day,
Speak, will ye grant again the bliss, at last,
That once ye snatched away?

O Lake beloved, mute caves, and forest green,
Whose beauty Time ne'er suffers to depart,
Keep fresh the memory of that evening scene,
Fair Nature, in thy heart!

Keep it, dear Lake, in sunshine and in storm,
In all the varied aspects of thy shore
In these dark pines, and rocks of savage form
That round thy waters soar.

Still let it live in every breeze that sighs,
In each soft echo that the hills repeat,
In every star that on thy bosom lies
With lustre, calm and sweet.

Let night-winds murmur to the reeds her name,
Let the faint fragrance that embalms each glade,
Let every sound and sight and scent proclaim,
"Here, two fond lovers strayed."





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