Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
We take many things in life for granted
And water is one of those things
We have it all around us
And do not realize all it brings.
We have water in our oceans
Water in the streams and lakes
We use water each and every day
To drink and to bake.
But imagine if our water
Become to polluted to use
When we take things for granted
We don't realize what we could lose.
We owe it to our children
And our grandchildren too
To take care of our water
In everything we do.
Poet: Alfred Tennyson
His resolve
Upbore him, and firm faith, and evermore
Prayer from a living source within the will,
And beating up through all the bitter world,
Like fountains of sweet water in the sea,
Kept him a living soul.
Poet: Benj. F. Leggett
High over all the twilight heaven,
Below the waves at rest,
The green gems of the wooded isles
Asleep on beauty's breast.
The blue smoke of the camp-fire curls
In waved and twisted lines,
Across the trembling aspen leaves,
Among the whispering pines.
Sweet nature's hush is in the air,
And on the water lies,
Whose crystal deeps give back the blush
Of evening's tender skies.
White mists are floating on the hills;
Across the silent air
Broad arms are spread in blessing forth
To make the scene more fair.
Poet: Charles G. D. Roberts
Look how the water's waiting holds the sky!
I think I never saw the Sound so still.
That wash of beryl green, that melting violet,
That fine rose-amber veiling deeps of glory
Our eyes could not endure — how each is doubled.
Lest we should miss some marvel of strange tone,
And be forever poor. Such beauty seems
To cry like violins. Hush, and you'll hear it,
Don't look at me when God is at his miracles.
Poet: Edward Johnson
O, water for me! Bright water for me!
Give wine to the tremulous debauchee!
It cooleth the brow, it cooleth the brain,
It maketh the faint one strong again;
It comes o'er the sense like a breeze from the sea,
All freshness, like infant purity.
0, water, bright water, for me, for me!
Give wine, give wine to the debauchee!
Fill to the brim! Fill, fill to the brim!
Let the flowing crystal kiss the rim!
My hand is steady, my eye is true,
For I, like the flowers, drink naught but dew.
0, water, bright water's a mine of wealth,
And the ores it yieldeth are vigor and health.
So water, pure water, for me, for me!
And wine for the tremulous debauchee!
Fill again to the brim! again to the brim!
For water strengtheneth life and limb.
To the days of the aged it added length;
To the might of the strong it addeth strength;
It freshens the heart, it brightens the sight;
'Tis like quaffing a goblet of morning light
So, water, I will drink naught but thee,
Thou parent of health and energy!
Poet: Philip Larkin
If I were called in
To construct a religion
I should make use of water.
Going to church
Would entail a fording
To dry, different clothes;
My liturgy would employ
Images of sousing,
A furious devout drench,
And I should raise in the east
A glass of water
Where any-angled light
Would congregate endlessly.
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Poet: Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
