With the swift breeze of inspiration shook,
As the pale priestess trembles to the breath
Of unborn oracles! then flushed her cheek,
And all the triumph, all the agony,
Born on the battling waves of love and death
All from her woman's heart, in sudden song
Burst like a fount of fire,
'I go, I go,
Thou sun, thou golden sun, I go
Far from thy light to dwell: