Lake Tahoe

Lake Tahoe, sweetest lake of lakes!The vision of thy beauty breaksWith startling power upon the eye!A sheen of water gleaming highAbove the tall dark-pointed pines:Apparently thy wave inclinesToward the sun, who pauses thereTo dress his long, bright amber hair;And many a loose, thick, shining tressTwines round thee in a warm caress;Nor does thy bosom's picture slightHis most impassioned glance of light;The day, whose smile thy mirror takes,Hath named thee sweetest lake of lakes.

Lake Tahoe, sweetest lake of lakes!The crescent moon oft overtakesAnd tramples on the soft white feetOf day, unwilling to retreatFrom the deep tide that charms its senseBy a heart-worship so intense:Oh, pale amethyst gem that shines,Clasping the leafy crown that twinesThe proud sierra's cold, pure brow—Shine on, forever, fair as now!Glow, many-tinted water, glow!There is no brighter wave below—The night, that mournfully forsakes,Hath named thee sweetest lake of lakes.

Lake Tahoe, sweetest Jake of lakes!A thought of awe intense awakesWithin the heart that lingers whereThy tranquil bosom slumbers fair,Like a bright tear of pitying love,Wept warm from heavens that lean above,When the white stars come out to seeHow lovely this hushed world can be;And view, with tranced and wondering eyes,Thee, looking upward to the skies,So beautiful, they half forgetThat earth is not an Eden yet—I, in whose dreams thy beauty wakes,Have named thee sweetest lake of lakes.