Maid

Stranger! in that font I trace Sorrows in my faded face, Where, within its waters clear, Brighter shadows did appear, When like dryad, young and fair, I lean’d to busk my bridal hair,— Bridal hair that ne’er was tied; The morn arrived—the bridegroom died! Now, I deem some spirit dwells In that fountain’s crystal wells, Where the echoes of a voice Bid me still, rejoice! rejoice! Since life’s short and stormy day, Like noiseless waters, steals away, Till on heaven’s bosom it doth lie, Mingled with Eternity.