I was still athirst.
"The other looked upon me graciously, Beheld me wasted with my bitter need, And gave me--nothing.

With a face severe, And prophet brow, he bade me quickly seek My own hard quarry--there hew out a way For the imprisoned waters to flow forth Unhindered by the stubborn granite blocks That shut them in dark channels.

I sprung up, For that I knew my Master; and I smote, Even as Moses, my gray, barren rock, And found sufficient help for all my house, All my servants, all my flocks and herds." The best friend we can have is the one, not who digs out the treasure for us, but who teaches and inspires us with our own hands to open the rocks and find the treasures for ourselves.

The digging out of the iron will do us more good than even the iron itself when it is dug out.
Shoes of iron are promised only to those who are to have rugged roads, not to those whose path lies amid the flowers.

There is a comforting suggestion here for all who find peculiar hardness in their life.
Peculiar favor is pledged to them.