Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/154

Rh

Bring me a draught from yonder brimming urn A drowsy river-nymph lets lean, and drip, Just now it were as welcome as a cup Drawn from the faëry people's wishing-well, 'The well in the wood, where the dearest dream comes true' Our grandames, spinning, us'd to sing us of.

I had forgotten the strange old spinning song. 'The well in the wood, where the dearest dream comes true, The wood where grows the herb of Heart-content, O'er which the trusting youth or maiden, bent, Finds dream-fulfilment, aye, and Hearts'-ease too!' That's but the burthen, I forget the song!