An empty cup is placed within our hands, Which we at wayside wells and inns may fill To quench our thirst. Clear water from the rill At first we find, but soon through desert lands We wander, where no pleasant shade-tree stands And from the rocks but bitter drops distill. We journey onward with undaunted will, Still eager that our feverish demands May find what they desire. We mix our wine With rue and fennel, and with heart's-ease, too; 'Tis bitter-sweet. Our souls are filled with ruth; But from the western hills a breath divine Brings strength and peace, and kindles hope anew; Beyond the sunset lies the fount of youth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TEARS IN SLEEP by LOUISE BOGAN MOTTO TO THE SONGS OF INNOCENCE & OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE FIVE STUDENTS by THOMAS HARDY FONTENOY, 1745: 2. AFTER THE BATTLE, EARLY DAWN, CLARE COAST by EMILY LAWLESS SEA UNICORNS AND LAND UNICORNS by MARIANNE MOORE WORK by ALEKSANDR SERGEYEVICH PUSHKIN TO - (3) by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY |