So, near the sunset of a summer’s day,
While walking by the lake within the park,
“I mean,” I breathed out cautiously, “to write
A tale of love; and I have plann’d the tale
To open here. In after time, perchance,
Those minds to whom it proves of interest
May love to linger here, recalling it.
Look now—this lake. To gain the full effect
Of palace, park, and yonder heaven unveil’d,
One, gazing downward in the water’s depth
Should note them wash’d of gross reality,
And—as in art—reflected. With this view
This tale of mine shall open. First of all,
Here, in the sunshine near us—at our feet—
Ay, in the water; ay, friend, here I mean—
Just underneath us,—mark you, mark you, there,
The hero, and, beside him, his ideal!”