But one who "doeth all things well,"
Who made us differ from the throng,
Has it within his heart to quell
This torturing pain of thirst, ere long.
And you, whose soul is all aglow
With fire Prometheus brought from heaven,
Shall in some future surely know
Joys for which high desires are given.
Not always in a restless pain
Shall beat your heart, or throb your brow;