Stones from The Quarry | ||
12
THE SPRING-HEAD.
Just born, with bees and heather its lisp to greet!The maiden fills her jar and stays it so!
The child o'erleaps it further on. Yet go
A Sabbath-journey, 'tis a mill-stream fleet;
Works with a will, and sings with voice as sweet
As glad; that gladness Work alone doth know!
Anon, like Median vein, with healthful flow,
Some Metropolitan heart it makes the seat
Of Commerce, as with civic mural crown
O'erbridged. With tidal pulses the great sea
Meets it half-way in welcome; lower down
Invests it with his “freedom,”—makes it free
Of the wide world, with share in all renown
And all great work done for Humanitie!
Stones from The Quarry | ||