FIRST VOICE.
I thirst, but earth cannot allay
The fever coursing through my veins.
The healing stream is far away—
It flows through Salem’s lovely plains.
The murmurs of its crystal flow
Break ever o’er this world of strife;
My heart is weary, let me go,
To bathe it in the stream of life;
For many worn and weary hearts
Have bathed in this pure healing stream,
And felt their griefs and cares depart,
E’en like some sad forgotten dream.
SECOND VOICE.
“The Word is nigh thee, even in thy heart.”
Say not, within thy weary heart,
Who shall ascend above,
To bring unto thy fever’d lips
The fount of joy and love.
Nor do thou seek to vainly delve
Where death’s pale angels tread,
To hear the murmur of its flow
Around the silent dead.
Within, in thee’s one living fount,
Fed from the springs above;
There quench thy thirst till thou shalt bathe
In God’s own sea of love.
This poem was originally published in Sketches of Southern Life (1872) (revised and expanded from an earlier version in Forest Leaves [1845]) and is in the public domain.
Tired and disheartened, the speaker in the first half of “I Thirst” by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper longs to be with God in the New Jerusalem (Salem for short). She thirsts for another world, away from the brokenness and suffering endured on earth. She can faintly hear the rush of living waters somewhere above and beyond her, and she wants desperately to plunge in. Essentially, she wishes to die, to enter the eternal presence of the Lord, where true life is.
But then a wise voice gently reprimands her escapist attitude, reminding her that God is with her in the Spirit right now, pouring his life into her, even residing within her. She has intimate access to the Divine. While full beatitude still lies on the horizon, in the meantime, we can quench our thirst for that “something more” by communing with God interiorly, through prayer and the word, and in corporate worship with our fellow pilgrims on the way. We receive a foretaste of the heavenly feast at the Lord’s Table, and throughout the week God nourishes us again and again so that, overflowing with the Holy Spirit, we may nourish others, pointing them to the Source.
This second half of the poem is based on Romans 10:6–8: “The righteousness which is of faith speaketh on this wise: ‘Say not in thine heart, “Who shall ascend into heaven?” (That is, to bring Christ down from above.) Or, “Who shall descend into the deep?” (That is, to bring up Christ again from the dead.)’ But what saith it? ‘The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thy heart: that is, the word of faith . . .’” (KJV). There’s an echo of Jesus’s words to his disciples that “neither shall they say, ‘Lo here!’ or, ‘lo there!’ for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21). There’s also an implicit connection to John 4:13–14 and 7:38, which says that springs of living water—that is, Spirit-powered life—flow forth from the hearts of believers unto eternity.
[Related post: “‘River’ by Eugene McDaniels (song)”]
Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (1825–1911) was a best-selling poet, fiction writer, essayist, traveling lecturer, and prominent political activist who advocated for abolitionism, temperance, and women’s suffrage. Born to free African American parents in Baltimore, Maryland (a slave state), she was orphaned at age three and subsequently raised by her maternal uncle, William Watkins, an AME minister and educator. In her twenties she moved to Philadelphia, and a letter she wrote to a friend in April 1858 describes how, against orders, she refused to give up her seat on a city trolley to a white person. At the forefront of nineteenth-century Black political thought and action, Harper founded, supported, and held high office in several national progressive organizations, including the National Association of Colored Women. She was also at the forefront of the early African American literary tradition, publishing ten volumes of poetry during her lifetime, which sold in the tens of thousands—in addition to her short stories and novels.
Art & Theology 