Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 8 1823/Our Lady's Well
Fount of the Woods! thou art hid no more
From Heaven's clear eye, as in time of yore!
For the roof hath sunk from thy mossy walls,
And the Sun's free glance on thy slumber falls,
And the dim tree-shadows across thee pass,
As the boughs are sway'd o'er thy silvery glass,
And the reddening leaves to thy breast are blown,
When the Autumn-wind hath a stormy tone,
And thy bubbles rise to the flashing rain—
Bright Fount! thou art Nature's own again!
Fount of the Vale! thou art sought no more
By the Pilgrim's foot, as in time of yore,
When he came from afar, his beads to tell,
And to chaunt his hymn, at our Lady's well.
There is heard no Ave through thy bowers,
Thou art gleaming lone midst thy water-flowers;
But the herd may drink from thy gushing wave,
And there may the reaper his forehead lave,
And the woodman seeks thee not in vain—
Bright Fount! thou art Nature's own again!
Fount of the Virgin's ruin'd shrine!
A voice that speaks of the past is thine!
It mingles the tone of a thoughtful sigh
With the notes that ring through the laughing sky;
'Midst the mirthſul song of the summer-bird,
And the sound of the breeze, it will yet be heard!—
Why is it that thus we may look on thee,
To the festal sunshine sparkling free?–
'Tis that all on earth is of Time's domain—
He hath made thee Nature's own again!
Fount of the Chapel with ages grey!
Thou art springing freshly amidst decay!
Thy rites are past, and thy Cross lies low,
And the changeful hours breathe o'er thee now!
Yet if at thine altar one holy thought
In man's deep spirit of old hath wrought,
If peace to the mourner hath here been given,
Or prayer from a chasten'd heart to Heaven,
Be the spot still hallow’d while Time shall reign,
Who hath made thee Nature's own again!F. H.
- ↑ * A beautiful Spring in North Wales, formerly dedicated to the Virgin, and much frequented by Pilgrims.