Come down, dear, to the fountain's pool with me,
And help me guess how long since last it tinkled
And trickled out thin streams of minstrelsy—
How long since last the grass with pearls it sprinkled.
It was yet young the day it fell asleep,
For time has left its glassy face unwrinkled.
Ah, could we where the shadows lie most deep
Peering discern the dear forgotten faces
Of girls who o'er the brink were wont to peep,
With shy eyes seeking in the depths the graces
Made dear and lovely to them by love's praise.
Can all have passed away and left no traces?
They dreamed, as we too dream, through summer days,
And hid their white thoughts in such water-lilies
As float here now. Flowers do not change their ways.
Ah, love, to-day the lucent water still is
As tho' no rosy finger-tips had dipped
And dabbled it, and hushed the fountain's rill is.
Their feet across the velvet greensward tripped,
Their bosoms pressed the crumbling grey-stone basin,
They fed the ruddy goldfish laughing-lipped ...
Is not one left? Look, look! I seem to trace in
The murky deeps some shape of hoary carp—
Too late! for now I only see your face in
The water, smiling questions. He was sharp,
That king-fish, but I caught his gold crown's glimmer ...
Oh, fountain, tune again for us your harp,
Fling through the air for us your diamond shimmer
Of spray. Two new young lovers seek your shrine.
Those loves of old with years grow fainter, dimmer,
But ours is warm and living and divine,
And time has not yet breathed upon its lustre,
And I am hers and she is all of mine!
And here we kneel where once old loves would muster,
Shut in the lilies one new secret up,
And add her image to the beauty-cluster
Of those whose eyes lie mirrored in your cup.