Poems (Carmichael)/Lake Tahoe
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LAKE TAHOE.[1]
Lake Tahoe, sweetest lake of lakes!
The vision of thy beauty breaks
With startling power upon the eye!
A sheen of water gleaming high
Above the tall dark-pointed pines:
Apparently thy wave inclines
Toward the sun, who pauses there
To dress his long, bright amber hair;
And many a loose, thick, shining tress
Twines round thee in a warm caress;
Nor does thy bosom's picture slight
His most impassioned glance of light;
The day, whose smile thy mirror takes,
Hath named thee sweetest lake of lakes.
The vision of thy beauty breaks
With startling power upon the eye!
A sheen of water gleaming high
Above the tall dark-pointed pines:
Apparently thy wave inclines
Toward the sun, who pauses there
To dress his long, bright amber hair;
And many a loose, thick, shining tress
Twines round thee in a warm caress;
Nor does thy bosom's picture slight
His most impassioned glance of light;
The day, whose smile thy mirror takes,
Hath named thee sweetest lake of lakes.
Lake Tahoe, sweetest lake of lakes!
The crescent moon oft overtakes
And tramples on the soft white feet
Of day, unwilling to retreat
From the deep tide that charms its sense
By a heart-worship so intense:
Oh, pale amethyst gem that shines,
Clasping the leafy crown that twines
The proud sierra's cold, pure brow—
Shine on, forever, fair as now!
Glow, many-tinted water, glow!
There is no brighter wave below—
The night, that mournfully forsakes,
Hath named thee sweetest lake of lakes.
The crescent moon oft overtakes
And tramples on the soft white feet
Of day, unwilling to retreat
From the deep tide that charms its sense
By a heart-worship so intense:
Oh, pale amethyst gem that shines,
Clasping the leafy crown that twines
The proud sierra's cold, pure brow—
Shine on, forever, fair as now!
Glow, many-tinted water, glow!
There is no brighter wave below—
The night, that mournfully forsakes,
Hath named thee sweetest lake of lakes.
Lake Tahoe, sweetest Jake of lakes!
A thought of awe intense awakes
Within the heart that lingers where
Thy tranquil bosom slumbers fair,
Like a bright tear of pitying love,
Wept warm from heavens that lean above,
When the white stars come out to see
How lovely this hushed world can be;
And view, with tranced and wondering eyes,
Thee, looking upward to the skies,
So beautiful, they half forget
That earth is not an Eden yet—
I, in whose dreams thy beauty wakes,
Have named thee sweetest lake of lakes.
A thought of awe intense awakes
Within the heart that lingers where
Thy tranquil bosom slumbers fair,
Like a bright tear of pitying love,
Wept warm from heavens that lean above,
When the white stars come out to see
How lovely this hushed world can be;
And view, with tranced and wondering eyes,
Thee, looking upward to the skies,
So beautiful, they half forget
That earth is not an Eden yet—
I, in whose dreams thy beauty wakes,
Have named thee sweetest lake of lakes.
- ↑ A beautiful crystal lake, situated on the summit of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, which separate Nevada from California.