Classic Poem

I.

The fountain of wealth was kept, they say,
By a genius all wither'd, and shrivell'd, and old,
Who pass'd each hour that roll'd in the day,
In counting his treasure, his jewels, and gold.
When he lay down to sleep, he trembled and wept,
For he thought of the girl, who, while he slept,
He charg'd to protect, with her utmost care,
Each gem that was costly, precious, and rare.
Nor vain were his fears; for one cloudless night,
When the nymph saw clear that in sleep he was hurl'd,
She op'd the dread portal, and all that was bright,
Came rushing at once swiftly into the world.
II.

Thy waters, Lough Neagh, resembled this fount;
And men were its guardians: but one lucky hour,
As reclining they lay on some meadow or mount,
They resolved to resign to dear woman their power.
The girl, when she felt the key in her hand,
And saw the bright waters at her command,
Well knew that the stream that in silence ran,
Was destin'd by heaven to benefit man.
So flung wide the portal, and smiling said,
" Flow on, bright stream, as bright as this brow; "
The waters flow'd fast o'er each shining mead,
Nor ceased to flow where it floweth now.