html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }Ilook'd across the water,
I bent over it and listen'd,
I thought it was my lover,
My true lover's paddle glisten'd.
Joyous thus his light canoe would the silver ripples wake.
But no, it is the Loon alone—the Loon upon the lake,
Ah me! it is the Loon alone—the Loon upon the lake.
I see the fallen maple
Where he stood, his red scarf waving,
Though waters nearly bury
Boughs they then were newly laving.
I hear his last farewell, as it echoed from the brake.
But no, it is the Loon alone—the Loon upon the lake,
Ah me! it is the Loon alone—the Loon upon the lake.