Down THE MaTTAWAMKEAG. 
169 


They enjoy their happy boating, 
On the waters swift and clear ; 
Ever gaily downward floating, 
Till the lakeside does appear. 
By the right bank’s quiet shade, 
Duplicated down below ; 
By the glen and by the glade, 
Slowly now the waters flow. 
Then through the centre of the river, 
In the sunlight bright and clear, 
Dip their paddles, flashing ever, 
To the lake now drawing near. 
Now by the left bank, all is ripen, 
Hill and dale and downward incline, 
Decked in golden shades of autumn, 
Wrapped in gorgeous mellow sunshine. 
Lake Mattawamkeag! quiet, stilly, 
O’er its broad waters just a ripple, 
As by the cove and sweet pond lily, 
Trolling, caught the golden pickerel. 
Paddling on as breezes freshen 
From the southland soft and lightly ; 
Wavelets lifting up the bow end, 
On she dances, gay and sprightly. 
Past the coves and rocky islands, 
By the shores and leafy arches ; 
All up the ridge is golden woodland, 
Down below are drooping larches. 
