I would not keep it secret or help it hide.

It was always up there giving itself away,

Not mine to keep, but I can taste it still

Not water only, not the surge and chill

Of life so old in the mountain

It was always up there giving itself away.

Always. Forever. In that surge and chill

I drank the word the mountain had to say.

Not mine to keep, but I can taste it still.

Always. Forever. With that surge and chill

From that

I drank both hands full dripping, too small a cup

For thirst I thought might never be satisfied,

And drank, and could not use the water up.

I would not keep it secret or help it hide.

It was always up there giving itself away.

Always. Forever. From that surge and chill

I drank the word the mountain had to say;

Not mine to keep, but I can taste it still.