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| EARLY on a sunny morning, while the lark was singing sweet, | |
| Came, beyond the ancient farm-house, sounds of lightly tripping feet. | |
| ’T was a lowly cottage maiden going,—why, let young hearts tell,— | |
| With her homely pitcher laden, fetching water from the well. | |
| Shadows lay athwart the pathway, all along the quiet lane, | 5 |
| And the breezes of the morning moved them to and fro again. | |
| O’er the sunshine, o’er the shadow, passed the maiden of the farm, | |
| With a charmèd heart within her, thinking of no ill or harm. | |
| Pleasant, surely, were her musings, for the nodding leaves in vain | |
| Sought to press their brightening image on her ever-busy brain. | 10 |
| Leaves and joyous birds went by her, like a dim, half-waking dream; | |
| And her soul was only conscious of life’s gladdest summer gleam. | |
| At the old lane’s shady turning lay a well of water bright, | |
| Singing, soft, its hallelujah to the gracious morning light. | |
| Fern-leaves, broad and green, bent o’er it where its silvery droplets fell, | 15 |
| And the fairies dwelt beside it, in the spotted foxglove bell. | |
| Back she bent the shading fern-leaves, dipt the pitcher in the tide,— | |
| Drew it, with the dripping waters flowing o’er its glazèd side. | |
| But before her arm could place it on her shiny, wavy hair, | |
| By her side a youth was standing!—Love rejoiced to see the pair! | 20 |
| Tones of tremulous emotion trailed upon the morning breeze, | |
| Gentle words of heart-devotion whispered ’neath the ancient trees. | |
| But the holy, blessèd secrets it becomes me not to tell: | |
| Life had met another meaning, fetching water from the well! | |
| Down the rural lane they sauntered. He the burden-pitcher bore; | 25 |
| She, with dewy eyes down looking, grew more beauteous than before! | |
| When they neared the silent homestead, up he raised the pitcher light; | |
| Like a fitting crown he placed it on her hair of wavelets bright: | |
| Emblem of the coming burdens that for love of him she ’d bear, | |
| Calling every burden blessèd, if his love but lighted there. | 30 |
| Then, still waving benedictions, further, further off he drew, | |
| While his shadow seemed a glory that across the pathway grew. | |
| Now about her household duties silently the maiden went, | |
| And an ever-radiant halo o’er her daily life was blent. | |
| Little knew the agèd matron as her feet like music fell, | 35 |
| What abundant treasure found she fetching water from the well! | |
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