| |
| ON the bird of air blue-breasted glint the rays of gold, | |
| And its shadowy fleece above us waves the forest old, | |
| Far through rumorous leagues of midnight stirred by breezes warm. | |
| See the old ascetic yonder, ah, poor withered form, | |
| Where he crouches wrinkled over by unnumbered years | 5 |
| Through the leaves the flakes of moon-fire fall like phantom tears. | |
| At the dawn a kingly hunter swept in proud disdain, | |
| Like a rainbow torrent scattered flashed his royal train. | |
| Now the lonely one unheeded seeks earth’s caverns dim: | |
| Never king or prince will robe them radiantly as him | 10 |
| ’Mid the deep enfolding darkness follow him, O seer, | |
| Where the arrow will is piercing fiery sphere on sphere, | |
| Through the blackness leaps and sparkles gold and amethyst, | |
| Curling, jetting, and dissolving in a rainbow mist. | |
| In the jewel glow and lunar radiance rises there | 15 |
| One, a morning star in beauty, young, immortal, fair: | |
| Sealed in heavy sleep, the spirit leaves its faded dress, | |
| Unto fiery youth returning out of weariness. | |
| Music as for one departing, joy as for a king, | |
| Sound and swell, and hark! above him cymbals triumphing. | 20 |
| Fire, an aureole encircling, suns his brow with gold, | |
| Like to one who hails the morning on the mountains old. | |
| Open mightier vistas, changing human loves to scorns, | |
| And the spears of glory pierce him like a crown of thorns. | |
| High and yet more high to freedom as a bird he springs, | 25 |
| And the aureole outbreathing, gold and silver wings | |
| Plume the brow and crown the seraph: soon his journey done | |
| He will pass our eyes that follow, sped beyond the sun. | |
| None may know the mystic radiance, King, will there be thine, | |
| Far beyond the light enfolded in the dark divine. | 30 |
| |
