I kissed its breast, I soothed its wandering fears
As on we tramped; then, at the close of day,
It said “Good-bye, old friend,” and crept away.
And now?—a beauteous melody I hear,
As constellations tumbling from the skies,
Are dancing on the floor before my eyes;
Nor do I dream at all, for, sitting near,
A gnat plays perfectly the sweeping strain
That Man’s ambitious mind strives for—in vain!
I could cry out in spite to think for years