A Water-Carrier

(He speaks)

Would they bring hither all their thirst to me,
If they but knew, I wonder... There the path
Lurks unsuspected, like a trodden thing
Subtle with pain, some lizard, dusty dim,
That creeps a weary way beneath the noon
And turns unto the desert, very sure
That none will follow.
Oh, my wilderness
Without a promise, save for who must find
A sweetness in the sand! Where nothing grows
But light too far to gather, — in the east
One early rose, and in the west one rose;
Dank shadows thick as weeds, and oftentime
Petals of cloud soft shed from fields of heaven.
Stern garden of no promise! Yet I found,
Long since, the hidden spring that none doth know
Save I who hollowed out the eager sand,
Rushing to drink, and ringed the place with stone.
There the cool boon wells up from starless dark,
(Song-sparkle struck like fire from speechless flint!)
Forever answering, with tranquil look,
The tranquil look of skies like summer sea,
Where nothing but a slow bird, half a-dream,
Ripples the silence. There, sole creature joy,
Leaning her dear locks over, to look down
Upon the well, — eternal newcomer
Soft-singing to the heart of loneliness, —
The one Palm muses.

(He sings)

Yea, I call
Unto you, ye people all,
Unto you, ye passers-by!
Come and try
What sweet things the water saith
Of a pool where wandereth
Star or shadow, drifting by.
Softer than a ringdove's coo
It shall bubble forth for you;
Brighter than the ringdove's neck,
When he flutters, at the beck
Of the sunshine after rain,
Down unto the pool and dips.
Answer for your thirsty lips,
Sudden wings for pain,
Bounty that is fain to bless,
Shadow for your weariness
That no eve may bring again!
Drink, if ye would know the laughter
Of the brown earth, after Rain!
I have been heedful of the boon, be sure, —
Walking in fear lest my way-weariness
Should quench the tremulous laughter that I bring;
Guarding it jealously from dust and drought
And covetous thirst of noontide. Yea, sometimes
When the jars weighed like heaven, too great and hot
Resting upon my head, too many stars
To poise so high above a parching world,
I have shut close my heart lest there should steal
Some bitter fragrance from heart's bitterness,
Such as the weeds may loosen at nightfall,
Wearied.  But still the clay holds fast its sweet,
Like silence; and ye know not, for ye come
And ask the water, and ye drink of it,
And take strange coolness of it, — a glad thing!
Sometimes I think I pour my very joy
Out with the draught, since gladness follows it
As sea-bird after sail; and there is left
The empty heart, like any earthen jar,
It is so heavy. 
Yea, I call
Unto you, ye people all;
Hearken, hearken, passers-by!
Forth the eager water gushes,
Like a wind among the rushes,
Laughter set at liberty!
Would ye know
Whence it came to glisten so?
Ask of all the stars that glisten,
With the dark at ebb and flow.
Listen, listen:
All the coolness of a dream,
All the mist of things that seem
Only made to smile and go!
Hearken what the water sings,
Mindful of its wanderings
Ere it nested in the jars:
Lilies slow that came to pass,
Warm contentment of the grass
And the memory of stars.
Soothsay of the earth and skies
Treasured so to make you wise:
All the garnered sweet of things,
Winged so to give you wings,
Swift from out a caging sorrow
Towards the beckoning to-morrow,
— Wings!
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