II.
ASPIRATIONS.
I.
I saw thee in the streets, so wan and pale;
My heart, it shivered at the saddening sight;
Like a thin cloud thou wert, that through the sky doth sail,
And threatens to dissolve, each moment, on its flight.

But through that thinly textured cloud, the moon
Can pour her splendour with a radiant sweep;
While its strong brethren make her silver light to swoon,
And quench her lustre in their dense and gloomy deep.

Thus, through thy wan and weak and worn-out clay,
The full-orbed soul floods her ethereal light;
Purer than pure moonbeams shineth her wondrous ray;
For, through the racking fire, she winged her upward flight.