There Is A Change And I Am Poor; Your Love Hath Been, Nor Long Ago, A Fountain At My Fond Heart'S Door, Whose Only Business Was To Flow; And Flow It Did; Not Taking Heed Of Its Own Bounty, Or My Need. What Happy Moments Did I Count! Blest Was I Then All Bliss Above! Now, For That Consecrated Fount Of Murmuring, Sparkling, Living Love, What Have I? Shall I Dare To Tell? A Comfortless And Hidden Well. A Well Of Love It May Be Deep I Trust It Is, And Never Dry: What Matter? If The Waters Sleep In Silence And Obscurity. Such Change, And At The Very Door Of My Fond Heart, Hath Made Me Poor.