Alphonse de Lamartine

(1790 - / Mâcon, Burgundy)

The Lake

Thus ever drawn toward far shores uncharted,
Into eternal darkness borne away,
May we not ever on Time's sea, unthwarted,
Cast anchor for a day?

O lake! Now hardly by a year grown older,
And nigh the well-known waves her eyes should greet,
Behold! I sit alone on this same boulder
Thou knewest for her seat.

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