44
POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
And this I say is not the half Of the great success I win—But I'll no longer take the time So you, pale friend, begin."
***
"I do not boast" the water said. Though my power is as potent as yours; For to all who freely drink of me It health and strength insures. I gently sooth the sick and the faint, I new life in the weary imbue; And even the roses smile sweetly and bright As I touch them with kisses of dew.
I turn the mill which grinds the grain— I strengthen, I cleanse, I heal; All things rejoice with grateful breath When my cool hand they feel. I send the brooklet on its way— I lift the drooping vine,—I make all vegetation grow— Can you do that, Sir Wine?
