Poems and Lancashire Songs :: :: University of Virginia Library

There's a limpid rindling fountain,
Yonder moorland hills among;
From the heather-breasted mountain
Tinkling drips its liquid song;
To its lonely music list'ning,
Once a maiden sat thereby;
Oh, that maiden's dark eye glist'ning—
It will haunt me till I die.

II

In that fragrant, wild seclusion.
With the soaring lark above,

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Blooming nature's glad profusion
Listen'd to our vows of love:
Sunny skies, and flow'rs around us,
On my rustic darling smiled;
And the dewy twilight found us
Ling'ring still amid the wild.

III

Oh, mild hour, when eve's lone planet
Gilds the pearls on every blade;
Angel-zephyrs came to fan it—
Blissful hour of mystic shade;
Sweet the wild-birds's trilling vespers
Died upon the dewy lea;
But my darling's gentle whispers
Never more will fade from me.

IV

Ah, that scene is now too sadd'ning—
Saddest in its richest bloom;

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Summer flowers, the wild hills gladd'ning,
Move my heart to deeper gloom;
Birds may hail the scented blossom
Oft on smiling hill and plain,
But the green earth's silent bosom
Ne'er will yield my love again.

V

Thus to meet thee, but to sever;
Thus to love, and then to part—
Oh, the bliss, the pain, for ever
Mingling in my lonely heart:
Oh, those lovely glances, darting
Modest gleams of timid glee;
Oh, the last sad hour of parting,
'Tween my own true love and me.

VI

Farewell to yon breezy mountain;
Farewell to the flow'ry dell;

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Farewell to the rindling fountain,
And the lonely moorland well;
Farewell to the streamlet, purling
Sweetly through yon silent glen;
Oh, farewell, the dark-eyed darling
I shall never see again!