The Lake At Night

Sweet are the sounds that mingle from afar,

Heard by calm lakes, as peeps the folding star,

Where the duck dabbles 'mid the rustling sedge,

And feeding pike starts from the water's edge,

Or the swan stirs the reeds, his neck and mill

Wetting, that drip upon the water still;

And now, on every side, the surface breaks

Into blue spots, and slowly lengthening streaks;

Here, plots of sparkling water tremble bright

With thousand thousand twinkling points of light:

And now the whole wide lake in deep repose

Is hushed, and like a burnished mirror glows.