Touch lightly Nature's sweet Guitar

Unless thou know'st the Tune

Or every Bird will point at thee

Because a Bard too soon —

Poet:

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...

Poet: