Poems (Hoffman)/Leonard Lake
LEONARD LAKE
Up where the tall Coast mountain peaks
Smile neath the azure skies,
Where the voice of nature's goddess speaks
And the startled deer through the forest leaps,
A calm little lakelet lies.
Smile neath the azure skies,
Where the voice of nature's goddess speaks
And the startled deer through the forest leaps,
A calm little lakelet lies.
On its green banks the redwood towers
And drops its bursting cones,
Sweet bird-songs while away the hours
And the south wind rustles through the flowers,
Or in the tree-top moans.
And drops its bursting cones,
Sweet bird-songs while away the hours
And the south wind rustles through the flowers,
Or in the tree-top moans.
To the oak-tree the wild-grape vine
In emerald splendor clings,
From the deep shade, pink star-flowers shine,
And the graceful bell of the columbine
In the gentle zephyr swings.
In emerald splendor clings,
From the deep shade, pink star-flowers shine,
And the graceful bell of the columbine
In the gentle zephyr swings.
I remember the slopes where the tulips blow,
And the cool refreshing spring;
The banks where the beautiful green ferns grow
And the waters dark and deep below,
And the songs the wild birds sing.
And the cool refreshing spring;
The banks where the beautiful green ferns grow
And the waters dark and deep below,
And the songs the wild birds sing.
In vain do I sing of the exquisite grace
Of mountain and lake and tree;
Should an artist's skillful pencil trace
The varied outlines of rustic grace,
'Twould at best but a shadow be.
Of mountain and lake and tree;
Should an artist's skillful pencil trace
The varied outlines of rustic grace,
'Twould at best but a shadow be.
Fain would I picture each perfect part,
With the sound of the dashing oar,
Though deeply engraven on mind and heart
I cannot to other minds impart
The charms that for me they wore.
With the sound of the dashing oar,
Though deeply engraven on mind and heart
I cannot to other minds impart
The charms that for me they wore.