A LEGEND OF THE LAKE.


Should you go to Centre-Harbor,
As haply you some time may,
Sailing up the Winnipisauke,
From the hills of Alton Bay,--

Into the heart of the highlands,
Into the north-wind free,
Through the rising and vanishing islands,
Over the mountain sea,--

To the little hamlet lying
White in its mountain-fold,
Asleep by the lake, and dreaming
A dream that is never told,--

And in the Red Hill's shadow
Your pilgrim home you make,
Where the chambers open to sunrise,
The mountains and the lake,--

If the pleasant picture wearies,
As the fairest sometimes will,
And the weight of the hills lies on you,
And the water is all too still,--

If in vain the peaks of Gunstock