The holy well is lost or never was
Though we have drunk the water of it, none
Can tell you where to find it now —
Lost spring, lost consolation, and we thirst
Like Christ who hung for hours in the sun
Well of blessing, deep shade and repose
Beneath the linden or the elder oak
Now stifled underneath a square of stone,
Or where He stopped before Samaria
Sat to rest His weariness and spoke:
I am the well, I am the water of your thirst,
I am the spouse who will not die,
I am, I was and will be ever more
I am refreshment and imperishable drink
I am I
