It sleeps among the thousand hills <br />Where no man ever trod, <br />And only nature's music fills <br />The silences of God. <br /> <br />Great mountains tower above its shore, <br />Green rushes fringe its brim, <br />And over its breast for evermore <br />The wanton breezes skim. <br /> <br />Dark clouds that intercept the sun <br />Go there in Spring to weep, <br />And there, when Autumn days are done. <br />White mists lie down to sleep. <br /> <br />Sunrise and sunset crown with gold <br />The pinks of ageless stone, <br />Her winds have thundered from of old - <br />And storms have set their throne. <br /> <br />No echoes of the world afar <br />Disturb it night or day, <br />The sun and shadow, moon and star <br />Pass and repass for aye. <br /> <br />'Twas in the grey of early dawn, <br />When first the lake we spied, <br />And fragments of a cloud were drawn <br />Half down the mountain side. <br /> <br />Along the shore a heron flew, <br />And from a speck on high, <br />That hovered in the deepening blue, <br />We heard the fish-hawk's cry. <br /> <br />Among the cloud-capt solitudes, <br />No sound the silence broke, <br />Save when, in whispers down the woods, <br />The guardian mountains spoke. <br /> <br />Through tangled brush and dewy brake, <br />Returning whence we came, <br />We passed in silence, and the lake <br />We left without a name.<br /><br />Frederick George Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-unnamed-lake/
