Poems (Acton)/The Old Grey Fountain
THE OLD GREY FOUNTAIN.
The old grey fountain 'neath the lime, Methinks I see it now;Its sparkling stream full many a time Hath bathed my sunburnt brow!When in the sultry summer day Through winding lane and glade,While round the path the wheat-ears lay, My youthful footsteps strayed.
The old grey fountain 'neath the lime! Those joyous days are o'er;I see it in its autumn prime And prize it even more;For loved companions seem to stand Its mossy front beside,And mirrored is that kindred band Within the crystal tide.
The old grey fountain 'neath the lime E'en autumn's hours have passed,Yet o'er its bank of scented thyme Sweet memories are cast. The ivy round the stone that crept, The willow bending nigh,Which with its graceful branches swept The stream that murmured by.
The old grey fountain 'neath the lime, Long may it scathless stand;Carved o'er and o'er with village rhyme By many a rustic hand.Still round its base the daisies gleam Beneath the drooping bough,As when a child within its stream I plunged my sunburnt brow!H. A.