Springs in the Desert

AND there is joy no music can express,When in the empty channels of the heartNew springs of love from unknown sources start;When all the desert-land of selfishnessThat, parched and shrivelling in its own distress,Sent not a drop to cheer the neighboring waste,Breaks into song, and with o'erflowing hastePours rill to rill, a suffering soil to bless.O silent, burning hearts! of lonely thingsYour lot is far the mournfullest, the worst.But when your sands with cooling waters burst,Each thought in welcome of that wonder sings.Spring up, O well! from God the fountain flowsThat makes the desert blossom as the rose.