The poem
Ho, everyone that thirsteth And hath the price to give, Come to the stolen waters, Drink and your soul shall live.
Come to the stolen waters, And leap the guarded pale, And pull the flower in season Before desire shall fail.
It shall not last for ever, No more than earth and skies; But he that drinks in season Shall live before he dies.
June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter's cold, The lad that hopes for heaven Shall fill his mouth with mold.