Heavy with a maudlin sleep,
Blithesome from a vision deep,
Flying westward with the night,
Eastward to renew their plight.
At this menace of the dawn
Dreams the helm of Thought put on;
All my heart its fresco high
Paints against the morning sky.
II.
Is the firmament of brass
'Gainst my thoughts that seek to pass?
Does the granite vault my brain,
That the soul cannot attain?
Planets to my window roll;
From the eye which is their goal
Million miles are built of space,
Web that glittering we trace.
Like a lens the winter sky
Hurls its planets through the eye;
But to thoughts a buckler dense,
Baffling love and reverence.
Shivered lie the darts I throw,
Vassal stars can farther go;
Time and Space are drops of dew,
When 'tis Light would travel through.
Shining finds its own expanse,
Rolling suns make room to dance:
Earth unfasten from my brain,
Rid me of my ball and chain.
Through the window, through the world,
My untethered soul is hurled,
Finds an orbit nothing bars,
Sings its note with morning-stars.
III.