Page:Poetry of the Magyars.djvu/182

Thou seest the fires of discipline,
Improve, sublime, correct, refine—
Till as the mists dissolve away,
In the diffusing smiles of day,
Man glides from mortal to divine.

Dweller in heaven, from heav'n upsprung—
All—all has heavenly looks for thee;
Thou hearest songs in every tongue,
In every motion melody;
Thou bathest in eternal streams
Of endless hope and joy, and findest
Repose and light in all heaven's schemes,
Which seem the strangest and the blindest.

Thou hallowed goddess of my heart,
Tell me, O tell me where thou art!
Where thine eternal home? and say,
May not my spirit wend its way
(For passionate longing might find pinions
To reach even thy sublime dominions)
To thine abode? Can nought but spirit
Thy presence seek, thy friendship merit?
Why struggling after thee, O why,
Sink we in deep obscurity?

Yet when at morning-dawn I bring
A matin-incense to thine altar—
When, tho' I scarcely breathe, but falter,
And at the evening twilight fling