Fly You Must

Some poet long ago has likened life

Unto a saddened soul forever

Dipping buckets into empty wells

And growing old with drawing nothing up.

Let not such deadening creed be mine!

But rather may I prove that life itself

A crystal fountain is, forever

Yielding up its waters sweet,

In draughts so deep our human

Hearts too shallow seem to plumb

Its depths; yet even with our narrow cup

We lift a sparkling tide unto

Our thirsty lipsand drinking

Thus, are satisfied!