The Haunting Spring

Gaily through the mountain glen The hunter's horn did ring, As the milk-white doe Escaped his bow, Down by the haunted spring; In vain his silver horn he wound,-- 'Twas echo answer'd back; For neither groom nor baying hound Was on the hunter's track; In vain he sought the milk-white doe That made him stray, and 'scaped his bow, For, save himself, no living thing Was by the silent haunted spring. The purple heath-bells, blooming fair, Their fragrance round did fling, As the hunter lay, At close of day, Down by the haunted spring. A lady fair, in robe of white, To greet the hunter came; She kiss'd a cup with jewels bright, And pledg'd him by his name; "Oh Lady fair," the hunter cried, "Be thou my love, my blooming bride, A bride that well might grace a king! Fair lady of the haunted spring." In the fountain clear, she stoop'd, And forth she drew a ring; And that bold knight His faith did plight, Down by the haunted spring. But since the day his chase did stray, The hunter ne'er was seen; And legends tell, he now doth dwell Within the hills so green. But still the milk-white doe appears, And wakes the peasant's evening fears, While distant bugles faintly ring Around the lonely haunted spring.