The Forest Fairies’ Fount - Smith

The Forest Fairies’ Fount

Circa 1829
By Sarah Louisa P. Smith (1811-1832)

SCOTTISH LEGEND

A fairy fount in the forest lay,
Where mortal footstep ne’er dared stray,
For with charm and sign and mystic spell
Was fraught each leaf of the lonely dell.
Sweet voices there were heard to sing,
But the eye met never a living thing,
Save on Halloween a shadowy form,
Like floating mist of the vanished storm.

On Halloween it was often seen
That fairy thing of the forest green;
That eve of ill to mortal men,
For every spirit is roving then,
And every bower of Scotland’s wood
Is peopled thick with an elfin brood;
And many a tale of witch and sprite,
Hold hearts in fear on that mystic night.

Wo for the wanderer then who met
That forest one ere the stars were set,
It told of death or trouble by,
Or the shrouded light of a beaming eye;
Never those mystic forms appeared
But a cherished hope of the heart lay seared.
And if there ventured footstep by
The fairy found, when the moon was high,
On Halloween, ‘twas said that ne’er
Might mortal more behold them here.

That eve there wander’d spirits there
On every breath of the lighted air,
And revels light and song went round
And mystic sounds thro’ the forest wound.

Light were the gambols, light and gay,
For all unruffled the green-sward lay,
When daylight came o’er the purple hill,
Her urn with night’s bright dews to fill.
‘Twas said the wild-bird never flew
To lave his wing in those waters blue,
But fled from the mystic fountain’s air
As he knew a spell lay lurking there.

‘Twas said that flowers there sprang and bloomed
And the forest air with sweets perfumed,
When snow thro’ many a long clear day
On Scotland’s rugged mountains lay;
And never chains of icy force
Fetter’d the fairy fountain’s course;

It brightly flowed in summer’s sun,
As bright when summer hours were done,
Sunshine was ever reigning there,
Like fancy’s regions still and fair;
A fancied region this may be,
But I tell the tale as they told it me.

Should you ever rove thro’ Scottish glades,
Go not to the fairy fountain’s shades,
Where the leafy trees are ever green,
And the spirits rove on Halloween.