Lake Como

By Abram Joseph Ryan

Winter on the mountains

Summer on the shore,

The robes of sun-gleams woven,

The lake's blue wavelets wore.

Cold, white, against the heavens,

Flashed winter's crown of snow,

And the blossoms of the spring-tide

Waved brightly far below.

The mountain's head was dreary,

The cold and cloud were there,

But the mountain's feet were sandaled

With flowers of beauty rare.

And winding thro’ the mountains

The lake's calm wavelets rolled,

And a cloudless sun was gilding

Their ripples with its gold.

Adown the lake we glided

Thro’ all the sunlit day;

The cold snows gleamed above us,

But fair flowers fringed our way

The snows crept down the mountain,

The flowers crept up the slope,

Till they seemed to meet and mingle,

Like human fear and hope.

But the same rich, golden sunlight

Fell on the flowers and snow,

Like the smile of God that flashes

On hearts in joy or woe.

And on the lake's low margin

The trees wore stoles of green,

While here and there, amid them,

A convent cross was seen.

Anon a ruined castle,

Moss-mantled, loomed in view,

And cast its solemn shadow

Across the water's blue.

And chapel, cot, and villa,

Met here and there our gaze,

And many a crumbling tower

That told of other days.

And scattered o'er the waters

The fishing boats lay still,

And sound of song so softly

Came echoed from the hill.

At times the mountain's shadow

Fell dark across the scene,

And veiled with veil of purple

The wavelets’ silver sheen.

But for a moment only

The lake would wind, and lo!

The waves would near the glory

Of the sunlight's brightest glow.

At times there fell a silence

Unbroken by a tone,

As if no sound of voices

Had ever there been known.

Through strange and lonely places

We glided thus for hours;

We saw no other faces

But the faces of the flowers.

The shores were sad and lonely

As hearts without a love,

While darker and more dreary

The mountains rose above.

But sudden round a headland

The lake would sweep again,

And voices from a village

Would meet us with their strain.

Thus all the day we glided,

Until the Vesper bell

Gave to the day, at sunset,

Its sweet and soft farewell.

Then back again we glided

Upon our homeward way,

When twilight wrapped the waters

And the mountains with its gray.

But brief the reign of twilight,

The night came quickly on;

The dark brow o'er the mountains,

Star-wreathed, brightly shone.

And down thro’ all the shadows

The star-gleams softly crept,

And kissed, with lips all shining,

The wavelets ere they slept.

The lake lay in a slumber,

The shadows for its screen,

While silence waved her sceptre

Above the sleeping scene.

The spirit of the darkness

Moved, ghost-like, everywhere;

Wherever starlight glimmered,

Its shadow, sure, fell there.

The lone place grew more lonely,

And all along our way

The mysteries of the night-time

Held undisputed sway.

Thro’ silence and thro’ darkness

We glided down the tide

That wound around the mountains

That rose on either side.

No eyes would close in slumber

Within our little bark;

What charmed us so in daylight

So awed us in the dark.

Upon the deck we lingered,

A whisper scarce was heard;

When hearts are stirred profoundest,

Lips are without a word.

“Let's say the Chaplet,” softly

A voice beside me spake.

“Christ walked once in the darkness

Across an Eastern lake,

“And to-night we know the secret

That will charm Him to our side:

If we call upon His Mother,

He will meet us on the tide.”

So we said the beads together,

Up and down the little bark;

And I believe that Jesus met us,

With His Mother, in the dark.

And our prayers were scarcely ended

When, on mountain-top afar,

We beheld the morning meeting

With the night's last fading star.

And I left the lake; but never

Shall the years to come efface

From my heart the dream and vision

Of that strange and lonely place.