For Fountain, Torrent, River—all are one,
Though of the night.
I know that all are ours—all hidden lie
In form of Bread, hid from the curious eye
To give us life. O love! O mystery
Of deepest night!
And the Life seeks all living things to fill,
To quench our thirst with water from the rill,
To feed, to guide us, though in darkness still,