FROM "DÉMON"
Sailless and without a rudder,
On the ocean of the air—
Float the choirs of stars harmonious,
'Mid the mists eternal there;
Fleecy flocks of clouds elusive
Drift across immensity,
Leaving ne'er a track behind them,
Following their destiny.
Hour of parting, hour of meeting
They know not,—nor grief, nor rest—
Theirs no longing for the future,
Theirs no sorrow for the past.
By thy day of anguish broken,
Think of them and calm thy woe—
Be indifferent as they are
To the pangs of earth below!