Far up the mountain-side today <br />The slopes are baked and hot; <br />I find no shade upon my way, <br />And water-springs are not. <br /> <br />Here, where a little gully's wall <br />Takes shadow from the south, <br />I see a tiny rillet crawl <br />From out a stony mouth. <br /> <br />Now, where the stream begins to fail <br />Below a narrow brink, <br />I carve a basin in the shale <br />That small wild things may drink. <br /> <br />A poor and shallow cup, at best, <br />But good for beaks and lips. <br />Slowly from out the mountain's breast <br />The clearing water drips; <br /> <br />And well I know when sunset light <br />Makes sharp the canyon rims. <br />My pool will wait the things of night, <br />Where pure and cool it brims. . . . <br /> <br />Spirit of nature, you that first <br />Called rain-clouds from the sea, <br />When next my needy mouth shall thirst <br />Do you as much for me!<br /><br />George Sterling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-compact/
