Musa Verticordia :: :: University of Virginia Library

Think not that I, in morbid mood,
Extravagantly speak;
You are the only daily good
That not in vain I seek.

As those who o'er a desert pace,
From dawn till daylight dies,
At noon arriving at a place
Where precious water lies,

Drink deep,—so I the fountain cool
Of your clear spirit quaff,
And ever find the charméd pool
Is bubbling with a laugh.

Then o'er the arid plains of thought,
Refreshed, I plod again,
World-careless, by the world unsought,
Singing my palmer strain.