Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BIRD AND THE FOUNTAIN, by CHARLOTTE YOUNG


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE BIRD AND THE FOUNTAIN, by                    
First Line: There was once a little fountain
Last Line: And hers enduring light!
Subject(s): Birds; Fountains


There was once a little fountain,
That flow'd away unseen,
In the bosom of a mountain,
Where man had never been;
Yet on it wander'd brightly,
With a pretty bubbling sound,
Whilst its waters sprinkled lightly
The plants that grew around.

But one evening, at the "gloaming,"
A Swallow, pert and vain,
From far distant countries roaming,
Came soaring o'er the plain;
And staying by the mountain,
To rest his weary wing,
To that pretty little fountain
He thus began to sing: --

"Poor humble thing, and lowly,
Confined to one lone spot,
Condemn'd to suffer slowly
Thy solitary lot!
Oh! had you seen the bowers
O'er which I've lately flown,
How poor you'd think the flowers
That blossom here alone!

"For there, 'midst scenes of splendour,
A fountain's life should run,
And all its sweetness render
Beneath an Eastern sun;
There should your cooling waters,
In fragrance and perfume,
Descend to bless the daughters
Of Oriental bloom."

The little fountain listen'd,
And, for a moment's space,
Perhaps less brightly glisten'd
In her lonely hiding-place:
Perchance the swallow's measure
A passing shadow threw
On every simple pleasure
Her humble spirit knew.

And soon that pretty Fountain,
Once happy and content,
Perchance had scorn'd the mountain
Where all her life was spent,
Had not a thirsty flower
Just caught her sparkling eye,
Who, but for her sweet shower,
Must pine away and die.

Oh, then she said, "Pert stranger,
I do not envy thee,
Though o'er those scenes a ranger,
Which I may never see;
Since in my quiet flowing
I've joys to thee unknown,
The bliss of bliss bestowing, --
The sweetest ever known!"

She said, and soft reclining
Within her crystal bed,
She kissed that flow'ret pining,
And raised its drooping head.
The Swallow and his story
Were soon forgotten quite,
For his was fading glory,
And hers enduring light!





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