Derwentwater, looking south
A child might well imagine such a scene:
peace and unearthly calmness; not a soul
to interrupt the silence of the whole,
or break the luminescent tints of green.
Outlined, as in a church’s sunlit window,
each shape is flat, except the waterfall --
the one thing moving if it moves at all,
its spray refracting sun, a cloud of snow.
The light that never was on sea or land
falls on the trees, the smooth and sculpted grass,
the silver water’s surface smooth as glass.
High circling mountains in the distance stand
patched with reflections from a summer sky.
The big soft clouds are motionless,
held by the blue’s own steadiness,
and all around the lake the bare hills lie.
Francis Towne, Derwentwater looking south