Reflections.

A poem by Alfred Castner King

On the margin of a lakelet,
In a rugged mountain clime,
Where precipice and pinnacle
Of countenance sublime,
Cast their weird, austere reflections
In the water's glistening sheen,
I strolled in contemplative mood,
Both pensive and serene.

As in a crystal mirror,
In that lakelet's placid face,
I saw the mountains upside down,
With all their pristine grace;
I saw each cliff and point of rocks,
I saw the stately pine,
Inverted in fantastic form
Below the water line.

I paused in admiration;
And with calm complacency
I marveled at this photograph
From nature's gallery;
And as my eyes surveyed the scene
With solemn grandeur fraught,
This simile flashed through my mind
As instantly as thought:

As the stern, majestic mountains,
Without error or mistake,
Were reflected in the bosom
Of that cool, pellucid lake,
So our every thought and action,
Be it deed of hate or love,
May be photographed in record
In that gallery above.

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