bubble30
A Hymn
Thy bounty is a crystal well
Where all the world may drink.
We bring bright cups, and can not tell
What waits us at the brink.
One quaffs rich draughts of joy; and one,
Lifting his strong arm high,
Some dear pledge shouting to the sun,
Drains sorrow's chalice dry.
And one, wreathing his bowl for sleep,
Quaffs years of bitter breath;
And one, hope's beaker dipping deep,
Tastes the wide seas of death.
Yet crystal clear the waters rise
From infinite realms of rest;
Each cup mirrors the glowing skies,
And every drop is blest.
Harriet Monroe
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