There's a cure for all things in the well at Ballykeele, Where the scarlet cressets o'erhang from the rowan trees; There's a joy-breath blowing from the Land of Youth I feel, And earth with its heart at ease. Many and many a sun-bright maiden saw the enchanted land With star-faces glimmer up from the druid wave: Many and many a pain of love was soothed by a faery hand Or lost in the love it gave. When the quiet with a ring of pearl shall wed the earth And the scarlet berries burn dark by the stars in the pool, Oh, its lost and deep I'll be in the joy-breath and the mirth, My heart in the star-heart cool. --September 15, 1897