Open main menu
(during which, however, the poet fell into a pit).

Oh marvel! there he flies
Cleaving the sky with wings unmoved—what force
Impels him, bids him rise,
What curb restrains him? Where's his goal, his course?

Like stars and time eterne
He liveth now in heights that life forswore,
Nor envy's self doth spurn:
A lofty flight were't, e'en to see him soar!

Oh albatross, great bird,
Speeding me upward ever through the blue!
I thought of her, was stirred
To tears unending—yea, I love her true!