82
THE WASTED FOUNTAINS.
When faith darkens, and hopes languish,
In the shade of gathering years;
And the urn thou bear’st is empty,
Or o’erflowing with thy tears,
In the shade of gathering years;
And the urn thou bear’st is empty,
Or o’erflowing with thy tears,
Because those transient springs have failed thee,
And those founts of youth are dried;
Wilt thou, among the mouldering stones,
In weariness abide?
And those founts of youth are dried;
Wilt thou, among the mouldering stones,
In weariness abide?
Wilt thou sit among the ruins,
With all words of cheer unspoken,
Till the silver chord is loosened;
Till the golden bowl is broken?
With all words of cheer unspoken,
Till the silver chord is loosened;
Till the golden bowl is broken?
Up, and onward! towards the east,
Green oases thou shalt find;
Streams that rise from higher sources,
Than the pools thou leav’st behind.
Green oases thou shalt find;
Streams that rise from higher sources,
Than the pools thou leav’st behind.
Life has import more inspiring
Than the fancies of thy youth;
It has hopes as high as heaven;
It has labor,—it has truth.
Than the fancies of thy youth;
It has hopes as high as heaven;
It has labor,—it has truth.
