An Oasis
You wandered in the desert waste, athirst;
My soul I gave you as a well to drink;
A little while you lingered at the brink,
And then you went, nor either blessed or cursed.
The image of your face, which sank that day
Into the magic waters of the well,
Still haunts their clearness, still remains to tell
Of one who looked and drank and could not stay.
The sun shines down, the moon slants over it.
The stars look in and are reflected not;
Only your face, unchanged and unforgot,
Shines through the deep, till all the wave are lit.
My soul I gave you as a well to drink.
And in its depths your face is clearer far
Than any shine of sun or moon or star—
Since then you pause by many a greener brink.
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