The lake is lovely, with shadows deep,
but do not sit me down
in grass and dandelion;
newly-covered with a veil of dew.

As lovely as the view appears, if one looks up...
not down to see grass and ground...

I will not sit by the lovely lake
nor drink fine wine there.

I will never sample a picnic berry
nor sit on that grass,
that sweet dew-covered grass...
that awful carpet of my nightmare...

and the lake with such lovely shadows deep.