Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/1034

 She went up slowly to the gate, And then, just as of yore, She turn'd back at the last to wait And say farewell once more.

830. The Fountain of Tears

If you go over desert and mountain, Far into the country of Sorrow, To-day and to-night and to-morrow, And maybe for months and for years; You shall come with a heart that is bursting For trouble and toiling and thirsting. You shall certainly come to the fountain At length,—to the Fountain of Tears.

Very peaceful the place is, and solely For piteous lamenting and sighing, And those who come living or dying Alike from their hopes and their fears; Full of cypress-like shadows the place is, And statues that cover their faces: But out of the gloom springs the holy And beautiful Fountain of Tears.

And it flows and it flows with a motion So gentle and lovely and listless, And murmurs a tune so resistless To him who hath suffer'd and hears— You shall surely—without a word spoken, Kneel down there and know your heart broken, And yield to the long-curb'd emotion That day by the Fountain of Tears.