A Ballad of the "Thuner-See"

Now we set our prow to the land again,

And our backs to those splendors ghostly white,

But a mirrored star with a watery train

We hold in our wake as a golden kite;

When we near the shore, with its darkening height,

And its darker shade on the waters set,

Lo! the dim shade fleeth before our sight,

And the shadow that falleth hath spared us yet!

ENVOY.

From the jewelled circles where I indite

This song, which my faithless tears make wet,

We trail the light till its jemmed rings smite

The shadow, — that falleth! and spares us yet.