Drink in new life from sunbeams bright.
Hast thou not loved, at dawn, to feast,
The longing of thy mortal eyes
With vivid colours of the skies,
Burst free from floodgates of the East?
And hast thou never tried, in thought,
To gain a clearer, truer view?
A mystic glimpse, a vision new,
That shows the darkness as it ought?
A phantom of material fear