We come from a far land—
Still wandering, roaming
From people to people,
From ages to ages;
We are seeking a home that shall always endure—
In peaceful possession
To find our expression,
In stillness creating,
No power abating—
Yet we still seek in vain for a dwelling secure.
THE YOUTH
Who are these my eyes behold,
Like a troop of fairies nigh—
Forms whose beauty ne'er was told!
Beats my heart, I know not why!
GENIUS
Where weapons are clashing
And trumpets are blown,
Where hearts are with hate and with madness o'erflowing,
Where mortals are wand'ring, their goal never knowing,
Thence turn we our footsteps, in haste to be gone.
ARTS
We hate the deceivers,
Despisers of heaven;
We seek among mortals
Who to virtue are given.
Where pure hearts have welcome
To give to a friend,
We will build habitations
To dwell without end.
THE MAIDEN
What is this strange feeling?
What can it betoken?
By some hidden power my nature is moved,
They call to my heart like the friends I have loved—
Yet never before with these strangers I've spoken.