The Lake At Evening

Clouds, lingering yet, extend in solid bars

Through the grey west; and lo! These waters, steeled

By breezeless air to smoothest polish, yield

A vivid repetition of the stars;

Jove, Venus and the ruddy crest of Mars

Amid his fellows beauteously revealed

At happy distance from earth's groaning field,

Where ruthless mortals wage incessant wars.

Is it a mirror? -- or the nether Sphere

Opening to view the abyss in which she feeds

Her own calm fires? -- But list! a voice is near;

Great Pan himself low-whispering through the reeds,

'Be thankful, thou; for, if unholy deeds

Ravage the world, tranquility is here!'