  On a mountain by a fountain, By a faintly falling stream, Where upon the moss and flowers, Sparkling, fell the spray in showers, In the moonlight's mystic beam, Once a maiden came to dream, Came to sit and sigh and dream: On a mountain by a fountain, By a faintly falling stream. To the fountain on the mountain Rode a youth upon a steed; In his hair an eagle's feather; Round his waist a belt of leather, Wampum-wrought with shell and bead; In his hands a hollow reed, In his hands a magic reed: To the fountain on the mountain Rode a youth upon a steed. On the mountain by the fountain, When the moon shone overhead, While the maiden by him wavered, Low upon his reed he quavered, Piped and played and singing said,— "Listen and be comforted! Heart of mine, be comforted!" On the mountain by the fountain When the moon shone overhead. By the fountain on the mountain, So the Indian legend saith, Paler, paler grew the maiden, Paler as if sorrow laden, Frailer, paler at each breath, Saying, "Art thou Love or Death?" And he answered, "I am Death." By the fountain on the mountain So the Indian legend saith. Gone the mountain and the fountain Where the maiden's soul was lost: But in every stream you hear it Whispering, sighing, like a spirit, Hear the Indian maiden's ghost, In the foam as white as frost, Whiter than the winter's frost: Gone the mountain and the fountain Where the maiden's soul was lost. |
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