A dragon-fly by bright Waterton Lake
And a flying-machine in the sky
Ran competition for our admiration
The day that summer went finally by.
The flying-machine disappeared in the west
Across hundreds and hundreds of trails,
The dragon-fly dallied in buckler metallic—
Fish and reptilian scales—
Whizzing this way and that
By bright Waterton Lake,
And seemed to be showing the way we should take,
While the underbrush dragged at our knees.
Then the dragon-fly led
To a dimmer lake,
The home of a somnolent indolent breeze.
The dragon-fly led
To one lone lake,
The true lovers’ own,
The sweet secret lake
Past hundreds and hundreds of trees,
Past hundreds and hundreds of trees,
Hundreds and hundreds of trees.