How many strove to conjure from the air,
From water, earth or fire with subtle art
The elemental beings therein divined!
“But thou, with art more potent and sublime,
Transmutest all! None seeing thee is old!
All hearts forlorn, from dross of woe are freed!
And in the magic glamour of thy grace,
Hope’s listless wings win strength once more to fare
Towards that Ideal whose lineaments we trace
Importally incarnate in—‘Sylphide!’”