Of it you have kept some flavour
Through long paths of darkling strife:
Water all has still a savour
Of the primal well of life!
Could you show the lovely way
Back and up through sea and sky
To that well? Oh, happy day,
I would drink, and never die!
Jesus sits there on its brink
All the world's great thirst to slake,
Offering every one to drink
Who will only come and take!
Lord of wells and waters all,
Lord of rains and dewy beads,
Unto thee my thirst doth call
For the thing thou know'st it needs!
Come home, water sweet and cool,
Gift of God thou always art!
Spring up, Well more beautiful,
Rise in mine straight from his heart.
V.—CLEANING THE WINDOWS.
Wash the window; rub it dry;
Make the ray-door clean and bright:
He who lords it in the sky
Loves on cottage floors to light!
Looking over sea and beck,
Mountain-forest, orchard-bloom,
He can spy the smallest speck
Anywhere about the room!
See how bright his torch is blazing
In the heart of mother's store!
Strange! I never saw him gazing
So into that press before!
Ah, I see!—the wooden pane
In the window, dull and dead,
Father called its loss a gain,
And a glass one put instead!