YOU wandered in the desert waste, athirst; My soul I gave you as a well to drink; A little while you lingered at the brink, And then you went, nor either blessed or cursed. The image of your face, which sank that day Into the magic waters of the well, Still haunts their clearness, still remains to tell Of one who looked and drank and could not stay. The sun shines down, the moon slants over it, The stars look in and are reflected not; Only your face, unchanged and unforgot, Shines through the deep, till all the wave are lit. My soul I gave you as a well to drink, And in its depths your face is clearer far Than any shine of sun or moon or star -- Since then you pause by many a greener brink. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SURFACES AND MASKS; 1 by CLARENCE MAJOR THE CHILDREN by CHARLES MONROE DICKINSON IPHIGENEIA AND AGAMEMNON, FR. THE HELLENICS by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE REMEDY WORSE THAN THE DISEASE by MATTHEW PRIOR THE COMPLAINT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN COMRADE CHRIST by VERNE BRIGHT THE WANDERER: PROLOGUE. PART 2 by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON EPITAPH ON NOISY POLEMIC (BURNS'S 'BLETH'RIN BITCH') by ROBERT BURNS |