Classic Poem

I KNEW a cumbrous hill,
From whose green breast did daintily distill
A throbbing rill.

This is the artery,
And further on the crystal heart must be,
Thought said to me.

All other I forsook,
To follow every twist and curious nook
Of this wild brook.

Among deep mosses set,
I found the glimmering fount that did beget
The rivulet.

No other eye had known
Its secret, nor ear heard, for it made moan
Always alone.

I quaffed its waters clear:
Its limpid music babbled to mine ear
With voice sincere.

Then such a silence fell
Upon me, mantling me, as where a spell
Is wont to dwell.

Yet fled I from the place
At a rude rustling: and fear gave me chase
In my disgrace.

'Twas a slim water-snake
Slipt like an arrow through the shivering brake,
And left no wake.

But cleft the placid spring
And waved its flaming sword, its forked sting,
In a charmed ring.


So was the fountain spoiled,
Within its lucid walls a devil coiled —
My trust was foiled.