I would go forth as one who has reaped well what harvest the earth may unfold;
May my heart be o’erbrimmed with compassion; on my brow be the crown of the wise.
I would go as the dove from the ark, sent forth with wishes and prayers,
To return with the paradise blossoms that bloom in the Eden of light:
When the deep star-chant of the seraphs I hear in the mystical airs,
May I capture one tone of their joy for the sad ones discrowned in the night.
Not alone, not alone would I go to my rest in the heart of the love:
Were I tranced in the innermost beauty, the flame of its tenderest breath,
I would still hear the cry of the fallen recalling me back from above,