LXVIII.

Lake Leman woos me with its crystal face,

The mirror where the stars and mountains view

The stillness of their aspect in each trace

Its clear depth yields of their far height and hue:[jb]

There is too much of Man here,[315] to look through

With a fit mind the might which I behold;

But soon in me shall Loneliness renew

Thoughts hid, but not less cherished than of old,

Ere mingling with the herd had penned me in their fold.

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