There is a Well into Whose Bottomless Eye

There is a well into whose bottomless eye, / Though I were flayed, I dare not lean and look, / Sweet once with mountain water, now gone dry, / Miraculously abandoned by the brook

Wherewith for years miraculously fed

It kept a constant level cold and bright, / Though summer parched the rivers in their bed;

Withdrawn these waters, vanished overnight.

There is a word I dare not speak again, / A face I never again must call to mind; I was not craven ever nor blenched at pain, / But pain to such degree and of such kind

As I must suffer if I think of you, / Not in my senses will I undergo.