Wild honey from various thyme :: :: University of Virginia Library

We break through thy dark forest-land, among
The rocks thy hands have touched, the blossoming
Of Alpine roses: to the scaurs we cling,
By the bowed, rimming grass. But, see! along
This ledge a hollow, torrent winds have flung
Their hail across: no low song of a spring,
From shadow where the ferns creep shadowing,
No passion at the fount! Ice-stubborn, strong,
The storm-pool water offered to thy thirst,
Its bitterness a hurricane, the snow
Dun at its depths. O fated from the first
To desolation, draw'st thou near this brink?
From such thou hast drank a lifetime; even so,
Warm, sweet warm lips, stoop to your fate and drink!