The moon had risen, a three-quarter or nearly full moon, and its shimmering light across the lake made me turn off my room lights and gaze out at the scene before me. My room looked out on the lake, and the house itself was not more than a dozen yards from the water. The ground sloped gently down to a tiny bit of beach, a little crescent that had been selected for the site of the house. On the right of this placid little piece of shore was the boathouse, a large one, with canoes, rowboats and motor boats. Under the same roof was the bath house, and in front of that, out in the lake, were springboards, diving ladders and all the contrivances on which the bathers like to disport themselves. To the left was a bit of wild, rocky shore, for the edge of the lake was greatly diversified and rocks abounded, both in and out of the water. A line of light came across the lake, but was now and then blotted out as the swiftly drifting clouds obscured the moon. I liked it better in the darkness, for the sight was impressive. From my window I could see a great stretch of water, and as a background, dense black growth of trees, which came in many places down to the water’s edge. Often these trees were on a slope and rose to a height almost to be called a hill, while again the ground stretched on a low-lying level. As I looked, the details of the landscape became clearer and I discerned a few faint lights here and there in the houses. The big house nearest us I took to be Pleasure Dome. Not only because it was the next house, but because I could dimly distinguish a large building surmounted by a gilded dome. How could any man in his sober senses construct such a place to live in? It seemed like a cross between the Boston State House and the Taj Mahal. I was really anxious to go over there and see the thing at closer range. I decided to ask Moore to take me over the next day. Suddenly the lights all went out and the house and its dome disappeared from view. Looking at my watch I saw it was just one o’clock and concluded that the master of the house had his home darkened at that hour. But after I again accustomed my eyes to the darkness I could see the outlines of Pleasure Dome, and it looked infinitely more attractive in the half light than it had done in the brightness of its own illumination. As a whole, though, the lake scene was depressing. It had a melancholy, dismal air that seemed to lay a damper on my spirits. It was like a cold, clammy hand resting on my forehead. I even shook my head impatiently, as if to fling it off, and then smiled at my own foolishness. But it persisted. The lake was mournful, it even seemed menacing. With an exclamation of disgust at my own impressionableness, I sprang up from my chair, flashed on the lights and prepared for bed. The bright, pleasant room restored my equilibrium or equanimity or whatever it was that had been jarred, and I found myself all ready for bed, in a peaceful, happy frame of mind.