Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Americas: Vol. XXX. 1876–79.
Rideau Lake
By Charles Sangster (18221893)A
A silvery mist is lingering nigh,
And floating up the trees near by.
Silence upon the lake, and where
The pines drop pearls from out their hair.
Up leaps the sun’s broad chest of fire,
Up swell the bird-hymns,—higher,—higher,
Phœbus has loosed his forest choir.
A mirror that no force can break,
But which the tricksy zephyrs shake.
The golden-green, the gray, the blue,
Rise like bright fancies on the view.
Whole forests standing in their pride,
Rounding their shadows in the tide.
Dreamy and languid, passing fair,
Tinted and limned with artist-care,
Within the meditative eye
Of youth,—bright thoughts that never die.
To watch their features in the stream,
Half indistinct, as in a dream.
Huge mounds of airy-seeming land,
Fashioned by the Great Artist-hand,
Bathing their soft limbs in the deep,
As from their early couch they leap.
Pines, pointing to the far-above,
Flowers at their feet, white as the dove.
Young Athletes, browed with manly scorn,
White birches from their bosoms born.
Your sunny verdure glads the sight,
Each living fir-tree seems a sprite.
The plover whistles in the brake,
Wide day sits crowned o’er Rideau Lake.