V
Oncemore into my arid days like dew,Like wind from an oasis, or the soundOf cold sweet water bubbling underground,A treacherous messenger, the thought of youComes to destroy me; once more I renewFirm faith in your abundance, whom I foundLong since to be but just one other moundOf sand, whereon no green thing ever grew.And once again, and wiser in no wise,I chase your coloured phantom on the air,And sob and curse and fall and weep and riseAnd stumble pitifully on to where,Miserable and lost, with stinging eyes,Once more I clasp,—and there is nothing there.
Oncemore into my arid days like dew,Like wind from an oasis, or the soundOf cold sweet water bubbling underground,A treacherous messenger, the thought of youComes to destroy me; once more I renewFirm faith in your abundance, whom I foundLong since to be but just one other moundOf sand, whereon no green thing ever grew.And once again, and wiser in no wise,I chase your coloured phantom on the air,And sob and curse and fall and weep and riseAnd stumble pitifully on to where,Miserable and lost, with stinging eyes,Once more I clasp,—and there is nothing there.
Oncemore into my arid days like dew,Like wind from an oasis, or the soundOf cold sweet water bubbling underground,A treacherous messenger, the thought of youComes to destroy me; once more I renewFirm faith in your abundance, whom I foundLong since to be but just one other moundOf sand, whereon no green thing ever grew.And once again, and wiser in no wise,I chase your coloured phantom on the air,And sob and curse and fall and weep and riseAnd stumble pitifully on to where,Miserable and lost, with stinging eyes,Once more I clasp,—and there is nothing there.