What wondrous worlds, what new Immensities, what Paradise is there, Where oft thy wizard power my spirit drew In lofty flights, and where By other radiance than on earth e'er shined, I stray, nor to my mind My earthly state recall, nor truth unkind! Such are, methinks, the dreams Of the immortals. Ah! a dream, in sooth, Thou art, sweet thought, a garment to adorn Harsh and unlovely truth, An error palpable. But even of those Fair errors Nature shows, Thou art divine, because so strong and deep, That 'gainst the real thou thy ground dost keep; Thy power its equal seems, And only in death from mortal spirit goes.
And thou, indeed, my thought, unto my days Alone the vital breath, Thou cherished cause of infinite despair, With me shalt fall beneath the stroke of death: I gather from the signs my soul displays That thou shalt reign, eternal monarch, there. All other errors, sweet Disperse on pinions fleet At Truth's approach. And even the more I turn Upon her brow to gaze, Of whom with thee discoursing my days fly, The more the joyaunce grows, The frenzy wild whence my existence flows. Angelic loveliness! The fairest face that ever met mine eye, Methinks like image vain Attempts to rival thee. Thou art alone The fountain and the spring Of every charm that can enchantment bring.
From when I saw thee first, What other care did ever prompt my heart Than love of thee? How much of day doth part Without a thought of thine? In sleep immerst, When lay my weary soul By dreams unhaunted of thy sovran form? As beautiful as dreams Thy angel vision seems. On earth below or in the distant spheres: What hope to me appears Of finding aught more lovely than thine eyes, Or sweeter joyaunce than thy thought supplies?
"He dies in youth who to the gods is dear." MBNANDER.
Brethren at one time, Love and Death, did Fate Of yore ingenerate. Nought fairer here below
Hath this our world, nor have the stars, to show. Joys from the one do flow, The greatest joys that we Can in the ocean of existence see. The other every pain And every woe bids wane. A maiden fair of face, Sweet to behold, not such As doth imagine this our craven race, She likes to join full oft The youthful god of love, And both then fly aloft, The paths of earth above, Chief comfort of each wise and noble heart; Nor was a heart more wise Than when by love inspired; Nor in a braver mood This life of woe and anguish to despise, Nor for a lord more high Than this one is, each danger to defy: For where thou giv'st thine aid, Love, courage soon is made, Or doth revive; in noble actions wise And not, as it is wont, in idle mind, Becomes our humankind.