I tune the loud lyre
To the haunts of the vale
As a sea-piercing fire
On the wings of the gale.
I lift my desire,
I madden, I wail!
Come forth! I invoke ye, O powers, in the waters that
purple and pale.
Come forth in your pleasure,
O fountains and springs |.
Come dance me a measure
Unholpen of wings!
Show, show the deep treasure,
Unspeakable things !
Come forth! I invoke ye, O fountains, I sweep the in-
vincible strings.
THE FOUNTAINS
In the heather deeply hidden,
From the caverns darkly drawn,
In the woodlands man-forbidden,
In the gateways of the dawn,
In the glad sweet glades descended,
On the stark hills gathered high,
Where the snows and trees are blended,
Kissed at birth by sun and sky;
We have heard the summons: we are open to the day-
spring’s eye.
48