Classic Poem

The dweller on Ullswater's grander shore,
Or Keswick's, would deny thee any claim
Even to bear a lakelet's borrow'd name,
Of thy small urn so scanty seems the store
And such would doubtless scout the poet's lore,
Who one poor sonnet should presume to frame
In celebration of thy humble fame,
Although to theirs he could award no more.
Yet all the pomp and plenitude of space
They boast, can but reflect the wider scene
Of beauty round; as lovely is the sheen
Of thy clear mirror, in which now I trace
The soften'd impress and the heighten'd grace
Of earth and sky both silent and serene.