Fairy elves,

Whose midnight revels by a forest side

Or fountain some belated peasant sees,

Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon

Sits arbitress.

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 781.

Fountain heads and pathless groves,

Places which pale passion loves.

John Fletcher (1576-1625): The Nice Valour. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Hither, as to their fountain, other stars

Repairing, in their golden urns draw light.

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 364.

In the desert a fountain is springing,

In the wide waste there still is a tree,

And a bird in the solitude singing,

Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Stanzas to Augusta.

Like the dew on the mountain,

Like the foam on the river,

Like the bubble on the fountain,

Thou art gone, and forever!

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Lady of the Lake. Canto iii. Stanza 16.

She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;

And humble cares, and delicate fears;

A heart, the fountain of sweet tears;

And love and thought and joy.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): The Sparrow's Nest.

Bliss in possession will not last;

Remembered joys are never past;

At once the fountain, stream, and sea,

They were, they are, they yet shall be.

James Montgomery (1771-1854): The Little Cloud.

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,—

Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Taming of the Shrew. Act v. Sc. 2.