How well
I know that fountain,
It flows
and abounds with grace.
A deep and eternal thing,
I know from where it springs,
though it is night.
Even at night.

1
Its source I know not since it has none,
yet every stream from it does come,
I know of nothing with such beauty,
from it the earth and heaven drink
till full.

2
Rushing forth from endless deep,
From such a depth no other may rise,
Reach out your hand if your cup is empty,
Brimming with light, now come and drink
your fill.

3
And this eternal font's concealment,
in living bread, our life to give,
The living water which I so desire,
Here in the bread of life, approach
and eat.