
A desolate marshland scene unfolds around an ancient well-head, surrounded by withered rushes, juniper shrubs bearing white berries, and the constant sound of water moving through the grass. A plover cries above the scene, lending it an air of melancholy beauty. Despite the reluctant arrival of spring, the well-head retains a quiet, enduring charm upon the pale hillside. The flowing water prompts deep reflection on faith and nature. The speaker considers how, for certain souls, the natural world has served as a kind of sacred scripture, a direct expression of divine presence. The Ayrshire peasant of an earlier generation could drink in religious feeling as simply and directly as drawing cool water from such a pool, finding God naturally in the landscape around him. The speaker, however, cannot achieve this ease of belief. The very creatures of the natural world, the curlews piping in the distance, the living landscape itself, seem to stand between him and any clear perception of their creator. Rather than drawing him toward God, nature draws him deeper into attachment to the earthly world itself. This attachment is rendered in mythological terms through a longing to sleep like the enchanted Merlin in the forest of Broceliande, to cling forever to trees and grass and hills, fearing that whatever lies beyond death could never be as rich or as dear as this present world. The beauty of creation becomes almost an obstacle to faith, something so beloved that the speaker fears surrendering it. There is a recognition that the same gospel can lead people in opposite directions. What serves as a guiding light for one soul may lead another toward ruin. Each person's relationship with faith is thus deeply individual and fraught with danger, the same text illuminating or misleading depending on the spirit in which it is received. The poem closes with a prayer that is both humble and urgent. The speaker asks God to intervene directly, either by closing the eyes or quieting the restless mind, or above all by granting love, since love alone may carry a person to God when reason and beauty both fail. It is better, the speaker concludes, to arrive before God maimed and blind than to remain lost in admiration of the created world and never reach the creator at all. The prayer acknowledges human weakness and the insufficiency of intellect or aesthetic feeling as paths to the divine, placing the entire weight of hope on grace and love rather than on understanding or spiritual clarity.
By Robert Louis Stevenson · First published 1893 · Genre: Short Story, Literary Fiction, Realistic Fiction · 388 words
The withered rushes made a flame / Across the marsh of rusty red; / The dreary plover ever came / And sang above the old well-head.
About it crouch the junipers, / Green-black and dewed with berries white, / And in the grass the water stirs, / Aloud all day, aloud all night.
essay · nonfiction · literary prose · reflective · philosophical · meditative · personal voice · imagination · creativity · inspiration · memory · childhood
The Well-Head is listed on Textopian as a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson, dated 1893 CE.
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