Poems (Blind)/Aspirations/VII.
VII.
Like to the echoes, clear and light,
The sounding horn arouses,
That flit from height to Alpine height,
In elfin-like carouses;
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,
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.
Swift dawn-lit exhalations,
And swell and rise
To steep their being in the infinite skies.