Poems (Blind)/Aspirations/VII.

by Mathilde Blind

VII.

Like to the echoes, clear and light, The sounding horn arouses,That flit from height to Alpine height, In elfin-like carouses;

Then float away, With flamings of the forward-speeding day.Thus, in my soul, thy words awake Ideal aspirations,

That heavenwards their pulsion take: Swift dawn-lit exhalations,And swell and rise To steep their being in the infinite skies.