On Lake Temiscamingue
A single dreary elm, that stands between
The sombre forest and the wan-lit lake,
Halves with its slim gray stem and pendent green
The shadowed point. Beyond it without break
Bold brows of pine-topped granite bend away,
Far to the southward, fading off in grand
Soft folds of looming purple. Cool and gray,
The point runs out, a blade of thinnest sand.
Two rivers meet beyond it: wild and clear,
Their deepening thunder breaks upon the ear-
The one descending from its forest home
By many an eddied pool and murmuring fall-
The other cloven through the mountain wall,
A race of tumbled rocks, a road of foam.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Added by Poetry Lover
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