CHILL is the fount whose gentle streame doth carrye Tidynges of love as silverly it flowes Thorough green stalkes that on the brink doe tarrye Beneath the shadowe that the alder throwes. Lithe boughs in the low wynde with soft complainynge Make love-lorn sighes within that cool retreat; Whyle the hot sun, his topmost height attainynge Doth crack the earth with his soe ardent heat. Pilgrym that on the hard high road hath wended, Sorely athirst beneath the beames that blaze, Here let thy wearinesse awhyle be ended; Here take thyne ease awhyle from dustye wayes; In the cool aire and shade thy heat forsakynge Where the chill fountayne for thy thirst hath slakynge. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INEVITABLE by SARAH KNOWLES BOLTON SONNET: WRITTEN ON THE DAY THAT MR. LEIGH HUNT LEFT PRISON by JOHN KEATS 23RD STREET RUNS INTO HEAVEN by KENNETH PATCHEN THE MORAL FABLES: THE FOX, THE WOLF, AND THE CADGER by AESOP THORWALDSEN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE LAY OF ST. ALOYS; A LEGEND OF BLOIS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE KINGS OF THE EAST by KATHARINE LEE BATES |