A fairy came out of the woods,
A creature bewitchingly fair;
A dress would have stolen the beauty
Half-hid by the locks of her hair.

She said that not far from the wilds,
Where the rill gives itself to the brook,
She had seen what for years I was searching
In cavern and crevice and nook.

She led me the way to a spring,
Where to drink meant awakening love;
A draught of the cool, magic waters
Brought pleasure untasted above.

Expectant, I closed on her steps,
We came to the brook and the rill,
But the spring was not there nor elsewhere,
And the woodland was silent and still.

Then sternly, not looking, I asked,
“Where, O fairy, is that which I seek?”
There was nothing but silence for answer,
No fairy was there then to speak.