MENOTOMY LAKE. 



There's nothing so sweet as a morning in May, 

 And what is so fair as the gleam of glad water ? 



Spring leaps from the brow of old Winter to-day, 

 Full-formed, like the fabled Olympian's daughter. 



A breath out of heaven came down in the night, 

 Dispelling the gloom of the sullen northeasters; 



The air is all balm and the lake is as bright 



As a bird in brave plumage that ripples and glisters. 



The enchantment is broken which bound her so long, 

 And Beauty that slumbered awakes and remembers ; 



Love bursts into being, joy breaks into song, 



In a glory of blossoms life flames from its embers. 



I row by steep woodlands, I rest on my oars 



Under banks deep-embroidered with grass and young 

 clover ; 



Far round, in and out, wind the beautiful shores, 

 The lake in the midst, and the blue heavens over. 



