The Heart of the Water
O the ache in the heart of the water that lies
Underground in the desert, unopened, unknown,
While the seeds lie unbroken, the blossoms unblown,
And the traveller wanders—the traveller dies!
O the joy in the heart of the water that flows
From the well in the desert,—a desert no more,—
Bird-music and blossoms and harvest in store,
And the white shrine that showeth the traveller knows!