LAKE of the dead, I find not why
This name is thine, from tale or song:
Living are none who meet the eye
Morn after morn, these wilds along.
It may be, in an earlier day
Some Indian strife disturb’d the scene;
And man’s red blood, of man the prey,
Mix’d with thine azure waves serene.
It may be that with maddening yells
These wood-clad shores and isles have rung,
And chiefs whose name no legend tells,
Dead in thy rocky depths were flung.
Perchance more late some hardy crew,
Charged with the northern hunter’s spoils,
Freight to far cities yearly due,
Closed in thy breast their earthly toils.
Oft did their bell-toned chorus sound
In strains received from Norman sires:
Oft did the forests glare around
In witness of their nightly fires.
Through many a whirling flood they sent
Fearless and prompt their bark-built boat;
Anon their single canvass bent
Glad idly in free space to float.
Too venturous once — if thence thy name
Fair Lake — and have such chances been?
— Ah! let each lowly cross proclaim
Along this lengthening journey seen.
Lake of the dead — thy shores beside
In evening gloom now gathering fast,
No shadowy forms or phantoms glide,
No shrieks unearthly swell the blast:
Yet if beneath thy lonely waves
The bones of sinful man be spread,
Thou, like old Ocean’s hidden caves,
Shalt yield thy long-forgotten dead.
Proud piles where ancient monarchs sleep,
Rude graves, rich tombs with sculpture choice,
The battle-field, the stream, the deep,
To stir their dead, shall hear a voice.
Arise! — the trumpet rends the air —
The books are spread, prepared the throne:
The Angel lifts his hand to swear
That time shall be no longer known.
Forth from their holds the myriads come
Nation on nation, tribe on tribe:
To tell them or take their sum
O who could find an earthly scribe?
Lake of the dead — There is a lake
Where men in second death expire:
No hope they own, no respite take;
It is, great God! a lake of fire.
O Sin, envenom’d curse of sin,
Fast cleaving to our helpless race,
Flight from that curse what hope to win?
What means a holy God to face?
O there are means — eternal love
Has found a ransom for the lost;
He who in glory sits above
Himself has paid the bloody cost.
Look to your victim and revive;
Look to your Lord and hear Him tell,
I who was dead am now alive;
I hold the keys of death and hell.
On Him, on Him your hope be cast;
On Him, the heart-struck sinner’s friend;
On Him, the first, on Him the last,
Him the beginning, Him the end!
(George Jehoshaphat Mountain)
More Poetry from George Jehoshaphat Mountain:
George Jehoshaphat Mountain Poems based on Topics: Man, Fairness, God, Faces, Name, Eternity, Success, Sin, Death & Dying, Friendship, Books- The Lost Child. Canto I. (George Jehoshaphat Mountain Poems)
- The Toils Of The Voyager (George Jehoshaphat Mountain Poems)
- The Rose Of The Wilderness (Gathered In Crossing A Portage On The River Winnipeg) (George Jehoshaphat Mountain Poems)
- On The Rainbow At The Kakabeka Falls, Near The Mountain-Portage, Kamenistiquoia River (George Jehoshaphat Mountain Poems)
- Rainy Lake River (Sonnet IV.) (George Jehoshaphat Mountain Poems)
- On Seeing A Wolf Come Down Through The Woods To The Water's Edge (Sonnet VI.) (George Jehoshaphat Mountain Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Man Poems, God Poems, Time Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Faces Poems, Fairness Poems, Friendship Poems, Name Poems, Fire Poems, Sleep Poems, Success PoemsBased on Keywords: venturous, canvass, envenom, heart-struck, wood-clad, bark-built