Thus gladdened from our own dear Vale we pass
And soon approach Diana’s Looking-glass!
To Loughrigg-tarn, round, clear and bright as heaven,
Such name Italian fancy would have given …
The encircling region vividly exprest
Within the mirror’s depth, a world at rest –
Sky streaked with purple, grove and craggy bield,
And the smooth green of many a pendant field,
And, quieted and soothed, a torrent small,
A little daring would-be waterfall,
One chimney smoking and its azure wreath,
Associate all in the calm pool beneath,
With here and there a faint imperfect gleam
Of water-lilies veiled in misty steam.
So wrote Wordsworth of Loughrigg Tarn, one of his favourite places. Hidden away from the normal tourist routes.