REGATTA,—WINDERMERE LAKE.
With sunshine on their canvass,
And sunshine at their side—
Like court beauties at a pageant,
The stately vessels glide.
The sound of shout and music
Comes from the boats behind;
And the peal of youthful laughter
Makes glad the summer wind.
But we will not go with them,
My loved one and my own;
We never are so happy
As when we are alone.
Yet when the purple shadows
Of the quiet eve come on,
And the ripple of those vessels
From each still wave is gone:—
When stars with silver footsteps
Pass like angels o’er the sky;
When the breath of leaf and blossom
To the lulling winds reply:—
Then let our boat, my sweet one!
To yonder shore depart,
When not a sound is louder
Than our own beating heart.
Like a dream beneath the moonlight,
Our fairy float will be;
Let the weary crave the many—
I ask only for thee!
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