There are some hearts like wells, green-mossed and deep
— As ever Summer saw;
And cool their water is, — yea, cool and sweet; —
— But you must come to draw.
They hoard not, yet they rest in calm content,
— And not unsought will give;
They can be quiet with their wealth unspent,
— So self-contained they live.

And there are some like springs, that bubbling burst
— To follow dusty ways,
And run with offered cup to quench his thirst
— Where the tired traveller strays;
That never ask the meadows if they want
— What is their joy to give; —
Unasked, their lives to other life they grant,
— So self-bestowed they live!

And One is like the ocean, deep and wide,
— Wherein all waters fall;
That girdles the broad earth, and draws the tide,
— Feeding and bearing all;
That broods the mists, that sends the clouds abroad,
— That takes, again to give; —
Even the great and loving heart of God,
— Whereby all love doth live.