Such water do the gods distill

by Henry David Thoreau

Henry David Thoreau

Such water do the gods distill
And pour down every hill
For their new England men.
A draught of this wild water bring
And I will never taste the spring
Of Helicon again.
But yesterday in dew it fell
This morn its streams began to swell
And with the sun it downward flowd
So fresh it hardly knew its road.





Last updated January 14, 2019