Whose hearts hold scarce a trace of savage clans;
If childlike still, so be! the hand of time
Is stretched past legacies to shape and cleanse.
[1]. Pronounced as in French.
LAKE GEORGE.
Where cedars taper, there's a lake beyond;
Once visioned from the hill, it beckons me;
Soft-hazed with heat's grey, slumbrous canopy,
Or bright with glittering dust of diamond,
Or calmed when waning day wafts glances fond,