The Poetry Corner

The Fount Of Tears

By Paul Laurence Dunbar

All hot and grimy from the road, Dust gray from arduous years, I sat me down and eased my load Beside the Fount of Tears. The waters sparkled to my eye, Calm, crystal-like, and cool, And breathing there a restful sigh, I bent me to the pool. When, lo! a voice cried: "Pilgrim, rise, Harsh tho' the sentence be, And on to other lands and skies-- This fount is not for thee. "Pass on, but calm thy needless fears, Some may not love or sin, An angel guards the Fount of Tears; All may not bathe therein." Then with my burden on my back I turned to gaze awhile, First at the uninviting track, Then at the water's smile. And so I go upon my way, Thro'out the sultry years, But pause no more, by night, by day, Beside the Fount of Tears.