Classic Poem

The stars were beginning to appear,
But the brightness of the west
Was not yet gone;
The lake perfectly still,
And when we first went into the boat
We rowed almost close to the shore
Under steep crags hung with birches:
It was like a new-discovered country
Of which we had not dreamed.

We hardly spoke to each other
As we moved along receding from the west,
Which diffused a solemn animation
Over the lake.
The sky was cloudless,
And everything seemed at rest
Except our solitary boat,
And the mountain streams,
Seldom heard, and but faintly.