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The Soul’s Flight

Wings are mine; above the pole
     Far aloft I soar.
Clothed with these, my nimble soul
     Scorns earth’s hated shore,
Cleaves the skies upon the wind,
Sees the clouds left far behind.

Soon the glowing point she nears,
     Where the heavens rotate,
Follows through the starry spheres
     PhÅ“bus’ course, or straight
Takes for comrade ‘mid the stars
Saturn cold or glittering Mars;

Thus each circling orb explores
     Through Night’s stole that peers;
Then, when all are numbered, soars
     Far beyond the spheres,
Mounting heaven’s supremest height
To the very Fount of light.

There the Sovereign of the world
     His calm sway maintains;
As the globe is onward whirled
     Guides the chariot reins,
And in splendour glittering
Reigns the universal King.

Hither if thy wandering feet
     Find at last a way,
Here thy long-lost home thou’lt greet:
     ‘Dear lost land,’ thou’lt say,
‘Though from thee I’ve wandered wide,
Hence I came, here will abide.’

Yet if ever thou art fain
     Visitant to be
Of earth’s gloomy night again,
     Surely thou wilt see
Tyrants whom the nations fear
Dwell in hapless exile here.

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