 | Songs of A Wayfarer |  |
175
CXCVI.
[Give me no paltry crown of earth]
Give me no paltry crown of earth,
Or crown me with its scorn;
Whose honour is of empty worth,
Whose love of lust is born.
Its praises, power, wealth and ease,
Its fierce delights: I ask not these.
Or crown me with its scorn;
Whose honour is of empty worth,
Whose love of lust is born.
Its praises, power, wealth and ease,
Its fierce delights: I ask not these.
Let me but grasp the life sublime
Of those fine souls of old,
Who spurned the slavery of time,
And were not bought and sold;
Whose piercing flight outsoared earth's dim,
Cold vapours; fledgling cherubim.
Of those fine souls of old,
Who spurned the slavery of time,
And were not bought and sold;
Whose piercing flight outsoared earth's dim,
Cold vapours; fledgling cherubim.
Thus like an eagle filled with light,
When this world's day is done,
Give me to cleave the clouds of night,
And flap the blazing sun:
A spirit steeped in stainless dew,
To meet the morning fair and new.
When this world's day is done,
Give me to cleave the clouds of night,
And flap the blazing sun:
A spirit steeped in stainless dew,
To meet the morning fair and new.
| Songs of A Wayfarer | |