The Nymph of the Cottage Well

    Bring spade and pick, and an iron bar,
Deep in the earth is a fountain-head,
Where a pure Nymph sleeps on a rocky bed,
    Unseen by sun and star.
    Set free the maid!
Plunge in the sward, the shining blade
    Of your sturdy spade,
    And follow it quick
With the searching beak of your hungry pick!

Open the chambers deep and wide,
For a granite wall on every side;
Down through the solid earth descend
    With steel and fire, and never tire
Till you reach the cell of your hidden friend.

Ho! now she is roused by the thunder-shock;
She wakes, she leaps from the cloven rock!
She has caught the light on her stainless vest
And glances, and dances, and laughs to be 
    Forever free
From the granite load on her stifled breast!

    In your hour of need
She will climb and bless you for the deed.
    In thirst and pain
She will cool your lip and fevered brain.
Should Fire, your demon slave,
From the grated cell of his iron cave
Leap up with a torch to shrivel and search
Your sheltering walls, she will rush to save,
And smother the fiend in her robe of mist.
    The young cheeks kissed
By her virgin lips, grow pure as she.
Your very garments rise clean and sweet
From the rippling play of her dancing feeet
    Rejoicing to be free!

Lo! now she is weaving a veil of moss
And dripping fern, in the rocky urn
You shaped for her dwelling; and oft across 
    Its crowning stone
A rainbow shoots in the noonday sun,
When the bucket filled in her bowl below
Comes up with a crytal overflow,
    And leans to the mower’s lip,
    As if from her finger’s tip
Tossed up in that sparkling drip
Was the kiss of her fellowship
That only her lovers know!

Pure, beautiful child of the sunless deep,
Roused by your call from her age-long sleep,
    Rich gifts her grateful love shall tell;
O never forget, in your daily need
The lovely maid from her bondage freed,
    The Nymph of the Cottage Well.