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.