And Shall The Living Waters Heed

And shall the living waters heed our vain desire, insensate Art! and fill the common dust I knead upgather'd from the trodden mart? As well might they forsake their clime of virgin green and blue, to creep in cities where our tears are slime, where our unquicken'd bodies sleep. — But thou, O soul, hast stood for sure in the far paradisal bower, there where our passion sparkles pure beneath the eternal morning hour. and oft, in twilights listening, my sleeping memories are stirr'd by lavings of the unstaunched spring upwelling in a sudden word. Why shouldst thou come to squander here the treasure of those deeps on me? nay, where our fount is free and clear stay there, and let me come to thee!