Maxinkuckee Lake  

Ah, here is a scene for a painter!
      A gleaming and glorified lake,
With its framing of forest and prairie,
      And its etching of thicket and brake;
With its grandeur and boldness of headland,
      Where the oaks and the tamaracks grow,
A league with the sunlight of heaven,
      And the spirit-like shadows below.

Where the swallows skim over the surface,
      And quaff as they touch the clear wave;
Where the robins seek out the cool waters,
      And warily venture to lave;
Where the sand piper toys with the splashes,
      And whistles his passionate note,
And the water-bugs sail like a navy
      Of fairies for battle afloat.

Where the blackbirds go noisily over,
      And the mallard wings rapidly by,
And the heron that flies like a snowflake,
      Comes down from the clouds in the sky;
Where the bobolink lights on the flag blade;
      And so proudly and prettily sings,
Or, watches askance the swift minnow,
      That out of his element springs.

Where the lilies abloom on the surface,
      Held down by their cable like stems,
And the tints of the bright cardinalis,
      Have the semblance of loveliest gems;
Where the mosses in festoons are hanging,
      In the richest of fashion and fold,
To decorate submarine dwellings,
      O’er pavements of amber and gold.

Where the spirit of mortal may worship,
      In the freedom of unwritten creeds,
Hearing many and joyous responses
      In the music that comes from the reeds.
And where in my fancy I’ve pictured
      A temple that’s builded so high,
It reaches in grandest proportions
      From the beautiful lake to the sky.

Jerome Burnett