The Lake

In the gentle twilight fading, When the sun is passing down, And the woods begin their soughing, And the dew is on the brown; When the echoes hang in silence And the stars glow faintly bright, I will seek the tranquil water For the sweetness of the night.

All is peace, and all is beauty, Starlit glimmer on the lake, Not a leaf shall breathe a tatter, Not a ripple stir to break. In the serenely azure silence, In the soothing angle of Heaven, I shall find a calm together, I shall hear my song of Seven.

• James Russell Lowell