Poems (1824)
by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
It is a lovely lake, with waves as blue
2260023PoemsIt is a lovely lake, with waves as blue1824Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Literary Gazette, 27th March, 1824, Pages 203-204


ORIGINAL POETRY.[1]

It is a lovely lake, with waves as blue
As e'er were lighted by the morning ray
To topaz—crowded with an hundred isles,
Each named from some peculiar flower it bears:
There is the Isle of Violets, whose leaves,
Thick in their azure beauty, fill the air
With most voluptuous breathings; the Primrose
Gives name to one: the Lilies of the Valley,
Like wreath'd pearls, to another; Cowslips glow,
Ringing with golden bells the fragrant peal
Which the bees love so, in a fourth. How sweet
Upon a summer evening, when the lake
Lies half in shadow, half in crimson light,
Like hope and fear holding within the heart
Divided empire, with a light slack sail
To steer your little boat amid the isles,
Now gazing in the clouds like fiery halls,
Till head and eye are filled with gorgeous thoughts
Of golden palaces in fairyland;
Or, looking through the clear, yet purple wave,
See the white pebbles, shining like the hearts
Pure and bright even in this darksome world;
There is one gloomy isle, quite overgrown
With weeping willows, green, yet pensively
Sweep the long branches down to the tall grass;
And in the very middle of the place
There stands a large old yew—beneath its shade
I would my grave might be: the tremulous light,
Breaking at intervals through the sad boughs,
Yet without power to warm the ground below,
Would be so like the mockery of hope.
No flowers grow there—they would not suit my tomb:
It should be only strewed with withered leaves;
And on a willow, near, my harp might hang,
Forgotten and forsaken, yet at times
Sending sweet music o'er the lake.


  1. Signature after later poem