Mountains toppling evermore
into seas without a shore
Seas that restlessly aspire,
surging unto skies of fire
Lakes that endlessly outspread,
their lone waters lone and dead
Their still waters still and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily
With the snows of the lolling lily,
By the lakes that does outspread
Their lone wa ters, lone and dead
Their sad waters, sad and chilly
With the snows of the lolly
Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever
By the greywoods, by the swamp
By the toad and the newt and kelp
By the dismal tarns and pools outside
There are lone waters, lone and dead
There are still waters, still and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily
With the snows of the lolling lily
For the heart whose woes are legion,
tis a peaceful, soothing region.
For the spirit that walks in shadow,
tis, or this is, El Dorado!
By the dismal tarns and pools,
where dwell the ghouls by ancient rules.
In each nook most melancholy,
there the traveller meets a guide.
A sheet of memories of the past,
that shrouded forms, that star in sight.
To pass, to wander, up the high
Wide road forms of friends long given
Agony to the earth and heaven
Their lone waters, lone and dead
Their still waters, still and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily
With the snows of the lolling lily
