MAPLE AT MY FATHER'S DOOR.
On velvet green of grassy floor,
'Neath maple at my father's door
My couch at eve has been;
There gazing on the tranquil sky,
With all its astral brilliancy,
My spirit sang within.
Then far away beyond the blue,
On Fancy's wings my vision flew
And scanned the realms of space;
Then like a dove far from her nest,
Returned to find a perfect rest
Within its dwelling place.
OCEANUS' MIRROR, TRINITY LAKE, N. Y.
[See Note on "[Fidelity.]">[
I've been charmed by many a picture,
That has brought its master renown;
I have looked on beautiful valleys
From the mountain's lofty crown;
I have gazed on the sky at evening,
When the heavens were all aglow,
But they fail to charm me so fully
As this scene in the waters below.
Fair Trinity lay in her beauty,
Not a ripple was on her breast,
Her borders of hemlocks and mosses
With beautiful flowers were dressed;
Clear as the air on her bosom
Were her waters so pure and deep,
They seemed like the magical mirror
That Flora and Nereus keep.
Where the rocks and trees bend over
The marge of her western shore,
The boat glided slowly onward
Without the aid of the oar;
When glancing the eye at the shadows
Reflected from shore near at hand,
There appeared a bright panorama,
Most charming—exquisitely grand.
Down, down, far down in the waters,
And touching the brink of the lake,
Was a picture no master painter
With pencil or brush could make;
Gray rocks, green trees, and bright flowers,
Inverted and magnified, too,
Seemed perfect in all but proportion
And their upturned chimerical view.