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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115182" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The wasted fountains</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">"And their nobles have sent their little ones to the waters;<br> they came to the pits and found no water; they returned with<br> their vessels empty." -- Jeremiah XIV. 3.<br> <br> When the fitful fever of the soul<br>  Is awakened in thee first;<br> And thou goest like Judah's children forth,<br>  To slake thy burning thirst; --<br> <br> And when dry and wasted, like the springs<br>  Sought by that little band,<br> Before thee, in their emptiness<br>  Life's broken cisterns stand; --<br> <br> When the ripened fruits that tempted,<br>  Turn to ashes on the taste;<br> And thine early visions fade and pass,<br>  Like the mirage of the waste; --<br> <br> When faith darkens, and hopes languish,<br>  In the shade of gathering years;<br> And the urn thou bear'st is empty,<br>  Or o'erflowing with thy tears,<br> <br> Because those transient springs have failed thee,<br>  And those founts of youth are dried;<br> Wilt thou, among the mouldering stones,<br>  In weariness abide?<br> <br> Wilt thou sit among the ruins,<br>  With all words of cheer unspoken,<br> Till the silver chord is loosened;<br>  Till the golden bowl is broken?<br> <br> Up, and onward! towards the east,<br>  Green oases thou shalt find;<br> Streams that rise from higher sources,<br>  Than the pools thou leav'st behind.<br> <br> Life has import more inspiring<br>  Than the fancies of thy youth;<br> It has hopes as high as heaven;<br>  It has labor, -- it has truth.<br> <br> It has wrongs that may be righted, --<br>  Noble deeds that may be done; --<br> Its great battles are unfought,<br>  Its great triumphs are unwon.<br> <br> There is rising from its troubled deeps,<br>  A low, unceasing moan;<br> There are arching, there are breaking<br>  Other hearts besides thine own.<br> <br> From strong limbs, that should be chainless,<br>  There are fetters to unbind;<br> There are words to raise the fallen;<br>  There is sight to give the blind.<br> <br> There are crushed and broken spirits,<br>  That electric thoughts may thrill;<br> Lofty dreams to be embodied,<br>  By the might of one strong will.<br> <br> There are God and Truth above thee, --<br>  Wilt thou languish in despair?<br> Tread thy griefs beneath thy feet, --<br>  Scale the walls of Heaven by prayer.<br> <br> 'Tis the key of the Apostle,<br>  That opens Heaven from below;<br> 'Tis the ladder of the patriarch,<br>  Whereon angels come and go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Lynch+Botta">Anne Lynch Botta</a> from <i>Poems</i><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115182" data-title="The wasted fountains de Anne Lynch Botta" data-description=""And their nobles have sent their little ones to the waters;/ they came to the pits and found no water; they returned with/ their vessels empty." -- Jeremiah XIV. 3./ / When the fitful fever of the soul/  Is awakened in thee first;/ And thou goest..."></div>
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