And still did we lean on our couch so green— That sweet little maid and I— And we marked its course as, with lessening force, The breeze swept ruffling by. Whilst the lake rippled o'er from shore to shore, And shattered the moonbeams bright, Till that mirror broad o'er its surface showed One shivering sheet of light. But it passed away, and the waters lay Once more in their holy sleep, With the orb so fair still glittering there In their bosom dark and deep; When that sweet little maid glanced up and said, With her smile so fond and free, “I can tell you how what we've witnessed now May apply to you and me: If yon radiant light that adorns the night, Seem the light of my love for you, And her form beneath your answering faith So perfect, deep, and true; If that breeze appear any transient care That may ruffle your bosom’s rest, Then they shew that my love will the brighter prove, When peace forsakes your breast.” Long years have fled since that sweet little maid Thus sweetly said to me, And as seasons change, will the fancies range Of maidens young as she. And from hopes of bliss, in a life like this, Will dreamers all awake— And all that was said by that sweet little maid, Was as moonshine on the lake. So much for mental quiet; the next, as the show people say, will be for physical comfort, viz.:— 'Twas eve, and over Walna Scar the sun had sought the west, And shades of night were settling thick o'er Thurston’s glassy breast, But yet I lingered on the lake as loath to leave a scene So lovely as, ere day’s decline, fair Conistone had been. When over Hawkshead’s heights arose a mild and mellow light, Announcing, with its silver sheen, the coming Queen of Night; And now I lingered on the lake her advent high to see, When stealing through the breezeless night came sounds of melody. And from the mantling mist emerged a slowly gliding boat, Which seemed in that imperfect light upon the mist to float; And now I lingered on the lake a wild, sad song to hear, And deemed it all too sweet for sound of this terrestrial sphere. That seraph song to silence sank, the boat swept slowly past, But soon another strain was heard as sweet as was the last; And still I lingered on the lake in strange entrancement held, Whilst through the calm mist-laden air the plaintive cadence swelled. The moon rose fair above the fell, and fast her radiance cleared The gloom away, and by her light another boat appeared; And now I lingered on the lake to watch that lonely pair Of tiny barks, propelled by hands of maidens young and fair.