Aspirations rise from my heart’s altar
To the great throne of Uncreated Power,
The wings of seraphim seem wafting me
In thought far through the bright and boundless ether.
O for the freedom of unbodied life!
To rove where thought ne’er ventured—where fancy
Halts, her swift wing wearied in its lofty flight.
I gaze upon the stars, and drink the full
Glory of the midnight heavens—and breathe
The breath of spiritual existence