The Fountain of the Fairies
              
There is a fountain in the forest call'd
The fountain of the faieies: when a child
With a delightful wonder I have heard
Tales of the elfin tribe who on its banks
Hold midnight revelry. An ancient oak,
The goodliest of the forest, grows besides;
Alone it stands, apon a green grass plat,
By the woods bounded like some little isle.
It everhath been deem'd their favourite tree,
They love to lie and rock opon its leaves,
And bask in moonshine. Here the woodman
leads His boy, and showing him the
green-sward mark'd With darker circlets,
says the midnight dance Hath traced the rings,
and bids him spare the tree.
Fancy had cast a spell upon the place
Whitch made it holy: and the villagers
Would say that never evil thing approach'd
Unpunish'd  there. The strange and fearful
pleasure Which fill'd me by that solitary spring,
Ceased not in riper years; and now it wakes
Deeper delight, and more mysterious awe.

(By: Robert Southey)