A love’s reserved when wells are dry   Whose dust reflects its soul   Whose echoes sound the silent cry   Of eyes’ unwatered shoal     Now all that’s dried and thirsting ground   Seeks some untempered truth   From different streams seeks to be drowned   In someone else’s youth     But others’ love won’t breach these walls   Nor heal its crumbling rock   Till purer flow from purer falls   Restores its absent stock     A pallid love which seeks repair   Can hope for nothing real   Till truer love leaves hearts laid bare,   Fills hearts which truly feel     If here we gave enough of love   To tame a cynic’s views   I think there’d be still more above   To fill the empty pews.