CHILL is the fount whose gentle streame doth carrye Tidynges of love as silverly it flowes Thorough green stalkes that on the brink doe tarrye Beneath the shadowe that the alder throwes. Lithe boughs in the low wynde with soft complainynge Make love-lorn sighes within that cool retreat; Whyle the hot sun, his topmost height attainynge Doth crack the earth with his soe ardent heat. Pilgrym that on the hard high road hath wended, Sorely athirst beneath the beames that blaze, Here let thy wearinesse awhyle be ended; Here take thyne ease awhyle from dustye wayes; In the cool aire and shade thy heat forsakynge Where the chill fountayne for thy thirst hath slakynge. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE RHINE by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES A STRANGE MEETING by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES IVAN THE CZAR by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE BANNER OF THE JEW by EMMA LAZARUS ARCADIA: SESTINA by PHILIP SIDNEY CHORUS OF CLOUD-MAIDENS: STROPHE, FR. THE CLOUDS by ARISTOPHANES |