And seek the things beyond mortality!” Manfred.
Thy voice prevails—dear friend, my gentle friend!
This long-shut heart for thee shall be unseal’d;
And though thy soft eye mournfully will bend
Over the troubled stream, yet once reveal’d
Shall its freed waters flow; then rocks must close
For evermore, above their dark repose.
Come while the gorgeous mysteries of the sky
Fused in the crimson sea of sunset lie;
Come to the woods, where all strange wandering sound