• Touch lightly Nature's sweet Guitar

    Unless thou know'st the Tune

    Or every Bird will point at thee

    Because a Bard too soon —

  • We thirst at first — 'tis Nature's Act —

    And later — when we die —

    A little Water supplicate —

    Of fingers going by —


    It intimates the finer want —

    Whose adequate supply

    Is that Great Water in the West —

    Termed Immortality —