
fountain
	Rest! This little Fountain runs
	Thus for aye: -- It never stays
	For the look of summer suns,
	Nor the cold of winter days.
	Whose'er shall wander near,
	When the Syrian heat is worst,
	Let him hither come, nor fear
	Lest he may not slake his thirst:
	He will find this little river
	Running still, as bright as ever.
	Let him drink, and onward hie,
	Bearing but in thought, that I,
	Erotas, bade the Naiad fall,
	And thank the great god Pan for all!
		[ For a Fountain, by Bryan Waller Procter ]
