But he supplies their gasping wants;
Ev’n from his own dry parched lips
He spares it for his coffee-slips.
Water he gives his nurslings first
Ere he allays his own deep thirst;
Lest if he first the water sip
He bear too far his eager lip.
He sees them droop for want of more;
Yet when they reach the destined shore,
With pride the heroic gardener sees