|But when the Night had thrown her pall|
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then-ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define-
Nor Love-although the Love were thine.
The Lake - E.A. Poe
Some changes have been made to LiveJournal, and we hope you enjoy them! As we continue to improve the site on a daily basis to make your experience here better and faster, we would greatly appreciate your feedback about these changes. Please let us know what we can do for you!
See a bug? Let us know! Here you can also share your thoughts and ideas about updates to LiveJournal
Your request has been filed. You can track the progress of your request at:
If you have any other questions or comments, you can add them to that request at any time.