SHEPHERD, or huntsman, or worn mariner, Whate'er thou art, who wouldst allay thy thirst, Drink and be glad. This cistern of white stone, Arched, and o'erwrought with many a sacred verse, This iron cup chained for the general use, And these rude seats of earth within the grove, Were given by Fatima. Borne hence a bride, 'T was here she turned from her beloved sire, To see his face no more. O, if thou canst ('T is not far off), visit his tomb with flowers; And with a drop of this sweet water fill The two small cells scooped in the marble there, That birds may come and drink upon his grave, Making it holy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 18 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE KNIFE-GRINDER by GEORGE CANNING THE POOL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO JANE: THE RECOLLECTION by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE FOOL'S ADVENTURE by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE ANTIQUE JEWELER by FREDERICK HENRY HERBERT ADLER THE KNIGHTS: THE POET AND HIS RIVALS by ARISTOPHANES THE CARPENTER'S STORY by ARCHIE BINNS THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 53. FAREWELL TO JULIET (15) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |