I never saw or dreamed a sight so still.

The greenperiphery of sunset skies
Has washed the lake of glass, and there arise
Great cloudberg stowering above each hill
Of distani blue. I could know peace until
Tne end of time, if I could stay my eyes
On such a scene, but yet to leave were wise,
Or ever lose this momentary thrill.

With deep reluctance, lest the summer light
Should fade and colour die, or lest a breeze
Disturb reflection, at perfection’s height
I turned and left the mirrored hills and trees.

When in my troubled hours I yearn for peace,
The silent lake returns and brings release.

JMT 1945