University of Virginia Library

[You ask what's found at a watering-place]

You ask what 's found at a watering-place,
To while away the hour;—
At times 't is the glance of a beautiful face
Exerts its magic power;
And often the charm of a graceful form,
Or rank, or wit suffice,
Or the prestige of wealth with jewelled arm:
Yet these we lightly prize,
Unless the soul looks out from an eye
That beams with kindness and love,
Where feeling 's enthroned, and sympathy
Its inmost depths can move.
Though fashion can win a passing smile,
And folly shake its bell,
Can any or all of these beguile,
Or the wearer's worth reveal?
O no, they are scentless flowers that grow
And thrive on flattery's breath;
They are but the gleam on a waste of snow,
While all is cold beneath,—
Or a desert mirage which mocks the sight
With semblance of verdure nigh,—
Or a flash of the dazzling meteor's light,
That shoots athwart the sky.
By the side of the living fountain's stream
A humble flower is found,
Which shuns the glare of the noonday beam
And sheds its fragrance round.
O'erlooked in the whirl of worldly strife,
Its delicate leaves unclose;
A priceless gem in the wastes of lift,
A Sharon's deathless rose.