How pleasant when athirst in burning days
To kneel adown where clear the fountain strays
Over its bed of pebbles—oer the brink
& just where bubbles blubber up to drink
How cooling by the parched lips it runs
While some thick willow shadows out the sun
& how delicious is the taste—een wine
Can[t] relish better where the wealthy dine
Then sweet spring water to the thirsty swain
Who sits & eats his dinner on the plain
& visits with a relish dear to toil
The shaded spring where clear the waters boil
An ancient luxury where the humble dwell
Which Jacob craved from Rachel at the well
Pet MS A54 p376
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