The fountain is gleaming in morning light,
But there kneels beside it a child of night;
For to her the summers no sunshine bring;
Oh! what doth she seek at that blessed spring?
The home of her youth she has left afar,
And the promise of light was her spirit’s star;
But her perils and pilgrimage all are past,
And that hallowed fount she hath found at last.
For they said that a spell in its waters lay,
To banish the blight of her life away.