When in Some Cove I Lie

by Henry David Thoreau (1841)

When in some cove I lie,
A placid lake at rest
Scanning the distant hills,
A murmur from the west,
And gleam of thousand rills
Which gently swell my breast,
Announce the friendly thought,
And in one wave sun-lit
I'm softly brought
Seaward with it.

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