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42
PONCE DE LEON TO THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH.
(1520.)
I.
Thou bubbling, rippling diamond that I seek
Among these Indian isles, while heavier grow
Both foot and heart as hope of thee ebbs low,
And as the years add wrinkles to my cheek:
Among these Indian isles, while heavier grow
Both foot and heart as hope of thee ebbs low,
And as the years add wrinkles to my cheek:
Behold, my back grows bent, my hand grows weak,
And on the shrivelled vellum of my brow
The years have written all the cares they know,
And I am whitening like a wintry peak.
And on the shrivelled vellum of my brow
The years have written all the cares they know,
And I am whitening like a wintry peak.
And thou art in existence,—in some isle
Where pebbles of pure gold thy clear depth pave,
Like golden thoughts beneath a dreamer's smile.
Where pebbles of pure gold thy clear depth pave,
Like golden thoughts beneath a dreamer's smile.
Alone some silent Indian stoops to lave
His wrinkles off; or else, from while to while,
Some wounded panther laps thy healing wave.
His wrinkles off; or else, from while to while,
Some wounded panther laps thy healing wave.
43
II.
Fount, shall I never find thee? Must I still
Search isle on isle whilst other men behold
Their baser dreams fulfilled, and clutch the gold,
The sparkling stones, that cure no human ill?
Search isle on isle whilst other men behold
Their baser dreams fulfilled, and clutch the gold,
The sparkling stones, that cure no human ill?
Shall every other Spanish seeker fill
His ship with ingots, plunge in gems untold
His gauntlet elbow high, while I grow old
In searching for the sapphire of thy rill?
His ship with ingots, plunge in gems untold
His gauntlet elbow high, while I grow old
In searching for the sapphire of thy rill?
Fount, I'll attain thee yet; and by thy brink
I'll kneel, and see my white reflected hair
For the last time, before I drink and drink:
I'll kneel, and see my white reflected hair
For the last time, before I drink and drink:
But as I wash the wrinkles and the care
From off my brow, and in thy brightness sink,
What if, made young, I died of rapture there?
From off my brow, and in thy brightness sink,
What if, made young, I died of rapture there?
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