Away in the wood is a deep old well,
And squirrels and ring-doves beside it dwell,
Wee ferns and mosses about it grow,
And trees their shadows across it throw.

 

Far, far and away, below
the brink. :

The water sparkles as .

black as ink,

But when it comes up in
the bucket you see
It is crystal clear as a
spring. can be.

We go and draw it on

summer ‘noons,
Whilethe linnet sings
and the brown bee
croons
It is cool—so cool—
and the prettiest
sight

On the bucket’s brim

are the dew beads
bright.