A poem by Beverly Stock.
© Mykola Mazuryk | Dreamstime.com
How rising moons shine sad and mild
On wooded isle and silver bay;
Or setting suns beyond the piled
And apple mountains lead the day
August evenings black with night,
While overhead its gleaming crown,
The moon rounding into sight,
As a hushed inland sea looks down.
Lake of the Northland! Keep thy dower
Of beauty still, and white above
Thy solemn mountains speak of power,
Be thou the mirror of Heaven's love. (1)
(1) Summer By The Lakeside, II Evening, by John G. Whittier, selections from a poem in the public domain.