Xcvii.*

Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield One glimpse--if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd, To which the fainting Traveller might spring, As springs the trampled herbage of the field!

This quatrain is inspired by C. 509.

Oh! would that there were a place of repose, Or that we might come to the end of the road; Would that from the heart of earth, after a hundred thousand years, We might all hope to blossom again like the verdure.

Ref.: C. 509, L. 768, B. 754, S.P. 395, B. ii. 522.--W. 442, N. 400, V. 820.