Shepherd, or Huntsman, or worn Mariner,
Whate'er thou art, who wouldst allay thy thirst,
Drink and be glad. This cistern of white stone,
Arch'd, and o'erwrought with many a sacred verse,
This iron cup chain'd for the general use,
And these rude seats of earth within the grove,
Were giv'n by FATIMA. Borne hence a bride,
'Twas here she turn'd from her beloved sire,
To see his face no more. [1] Oh, if thou canst,
('Tis not far off) visit his tomb with flowers;
And may some pious hand with water fill
The two small cells scoop'd in the marble there,
That birds may come and drink upon his grave,
Making it holy! [2] ---------