Let no vain dreams thy heart beguile—
Oh! seek thou not the Fountain Isle!
Lull but the mighty serpent-king,[317]
Midst the gray rocks, his old domain;
Ward but the cougar’s deadly spring,—
Thy step that lake’s green shore may gain;
And the bright Isle, when all is pass’d,
Shall vainly meet thine eye at last!
Yes! there, with all its rainbow streams,
Clear as within thine arrow’s flight,