PITZ ORTLER: 1882.

Three fountains clear as crystal spring

In one secluded garden-plot;

In shade and shelter of one cot

Three sister-doves are harbouring.

Adown one pathway hand in hand

Three Sister-Graces wend their way;

I shall not soon forget the day

I met with them in fairy land.

They dawned, I know not how or whence:

A halo circling round the head

Of each, whereby transfigurèd

They clomb the hill of frankincense.

I know not whence or how, they bloomed:

Each sweeter than the sweetest rose

That in the haunted garden grows

Where burns the bush still unconsumed.

And one is like a rising sun

When dewy Morn unveils her eyes;

And one is as Minerva wise;

And very lily-like is one.

And all are dear. I seem to see

The weaving of a threefold cord —

To hear a softly whispered word,

‘ Love makes a unity of three.’