I KNOW a well so deep and cool
And hid, the crystal-hearted pool
Hath never thrilled a swallow's throat
Or sweetened one lark's note.

No fainting stag, though perishing,
Hath ventured to disturb this spring:
No leopard with its fiery breast
This fountain dares molest.

No cunning, silver-caséd trout
The sheltered source can e'er find out—
No tongue but mine may ever tell
The secret of this well.

I build about its guarded rim
With added stones; I know the dim,
Still twilight of its mossy cell
Where the sweet waters dwell.

For spirits go between us two
With flasks; they brim with softest dew.
I drink and am refreshed, and seem
As living in a dream.

This well, that is alone for me,
Is but a fount of memory:
And every year that I have known
Is but an added stone.

My willing thoughts, as spirits, haste
To draw the draught I love to taste,
There is an ever full supply
Yet who may drink but I?