Fons Vitæ
i.
I lay and dreamed beside a stream's well-head,
And praised the waters cool beyond compare;
My fain lips met a fresher liiceness there
But drank a draught as salt as tears new shed.
And, knowing from no sea the stream was fed,
I wondered greatly, as I grew aware
How wearily a wayworn people fare
For evermore beside that river's bed.
For, silently as walk the fleshless dead,
They went along, and each one on his head
Held straight a water-jar; no two the same.
Yet e'en the least a burden hard to bear.
And each, when to the river's spring he came.
Poured from his urn its weight of water there.
ii.
I saw them pass me, ghostly, hollow-eyed.
With faces dreamy-still, forlorn of pain.
And did not dare to break their solemn chain
Till, bold with fear, I thought: Whate'er betide
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