Thy hues have a language, thy course is a guide.
Shine on!—my own land is a far distant spot,
And the stars of thy sphere can enlighten it not;
And the eyes that I love, though e’en now they may be
O’er the firmament wandering, can gaze not on thee!
But thou to my thoughts art a pure-blazing shrine,
A fount of bright hopes and of visions divine;
And my soul, as an eagle exulting and free,
Soars high o’er the Andes to mingle with thee.
[285] Constantine.