That brings from depths of joy, still’d long ago,
A spray as fresh as dash’d from them when first
They stream’d in cataracts. With love like his
To flood its brim, my soul appear’d so full
That, overflowing at each human touch,
Its pleasures could not stagnate.
But, you know
How fly the clouds above us, and in drought
The old springs fail; and long we liv’d apart.