Poems (Hoffman)/Leonard Lake
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LEONARD LAKE
Up where the tall Coast mountain peaks
Smile neath the azure skies,
Where the voice of nature's goddess speaks
And the startled deer through the forest leaps,
A calm little lakelet lies.
Smile neath the azure skies,
Where the voice of nature's goddess speaks
And the startled deer through the forest leaps,
A calm little lakelet lies.
On its green banks the redwood towers
And drops its bursting cones,
Sweet bird-songs while away the hours
And the south wind rustles through the flowers,
Or in the tree-top moans.
And drops its bursting cones,
Sweet bird-songs while away the hours
And the south wind rustles through the flowers,
Or in the tree-top moans.
To the oak-tree the wild-grape vine
In emerald splendor clings,
From the deep shade, pink star-flowers shine,
And the graceful bell of the columbine
In the gentle zephyr swings.
In emerald splendor clings,
From the deep shade, pink star-flowers shine,
And the graceful bell of the columbine
In the gentle zephyr swings.
I remember the slopes where the tulips blow,
And the cool refreshing spring;
The banks where the beautiful green ferns grow
And the waters dark and deep below,
And the songs the wild birds sing.
And the cool refreshing spring;
The banks where the beautiful green ferns grow
And the waters dark and deep below,
And the songs the wild birds sing.
In vain do I sing of the exquisite grace
Of mountain and lake and tree;
Should an artist's skillful pencil trace
The varied outlines of rustic grace,
'Twould at best but a shadow be.
Of mountain and lake and tree;
Should an artist's skillful pencil trace
The varied outlines of rustic grace,
'Twould at best but a shadow be.
Fain would I picture each perfect part,
With the sound of the dashing oar,
Though deeply engraven on mind and heart
I cannot to other minds impart
The charms that for me they wore.
With the sound of the dashing oar,
Though deeply engraven on mind and heart
I cannot to other minds impart
The charms that for me they wore.