The music-lesson of Confucius, And Other Poems | ||
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THE FOUNTAIN FAY.
YE gentles all who love your life
Beware, beware the water wife!
Beware, beware the water wife!
She singeth soft, she singeth low;
Her lute is the mountain-streamlet's flow;
Her lute is the mountain-streamlet's flow;
Her harp the pine-wood's mournful moan;
She sits in the forest and sings alone,
She sits in the forest and sings alone,
And her songs like rippling rivers roll;
Beware, beware ere they drown thy soul!
Beware, beware ere they drown thy soul!
Ride where you may, ride where you will,
The Fountain Fay may meet you still.
The Fountain Fay may meet you still.
He rode alone in the silent night,
She swam like a star to his left and right.
She swam like a star to his left and right.
He rode by the linden blooming fair,
The wood-bird sung: ‘Oh, boy, beware!’
The wood-bird sung: ‘Oh, boy, beware!’
He came to the fountain in the wood;
The Fay in her beauty before him stood.
The Fay in her beauty before him stood.
In the starlight, silver-sparkling glance
Her sisters swam in the Elfin dance.
Her sisters swam in the Elfin dance.
‘Alight, young minstrel, brave and gay,
And sing us thy sweetest, strangest lay!’
And sing us thy sweetest, strangest lay!’
He tuned his lute, and the tinkling sounds
Flitted like birds through the greenwood bounds.
Flitted like birds through the greenwood bounds.
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He sang so sweet—he sang so long,
The flower-buds opened to hear his song.
The flower-buds opened to hear his song.
He sang so gently of maiden love,
He ripened the fruit on the boughs above.
He ripened the fruit on the boughs above.
‘Far in the East is a rosy light.
What shall he have for his song this night?’
What shall he have for his song this night?’
‘I ask no more for lute and lay,
Than a kiss from the lips of the Fountain Fay!’
Than a kiss from the lips of the Fountain Fay!’
She kissed him once—to the minstrel's sight
The world seemed melting in golden light.
The world seemed melting in golden light.
Once more, and his soul to the land of the fay
In beauty and music seemed floating away.
In beauty and music seemed floating away.
As she kissed him again the spirit had fled:
He lay in the moon-rays cold and dead.
He lay in the moon-rays cold and dead.
But far from above a whisper fell:
‘Green Earth, with thy valleys and lakes—farewell!’
‘Green Earth, with thy valleys and lakes—farewell!’
Ye who know not the life of poësy,
Of beauty, romance, and fantasie!
Of beauty, romance, and fantasie!
And who think there can be ‘no world like this,’
Beware of the Fairy—beware her kiss.’
Beware of the Fairy—beware her kiss.’
The music-lesson of Confucius, And Other Poems | ||