So with rosy wings of morning
Towards thy lips my being moves;
Sets the starry night a thousand
Glowing seals upon our loves.
We are as we should be--parted
Ne'er on earth in joy or pain;
And no second word creative
E'er can sunder us again!


PROOEMION[27] (1816)

In His blest name, who was His own creation,
Who from all time makes _making_ His vocation;
The name of Him who makes our faith so bright,
Love, confidence, activity, and might;
In that One's name, who, named though oft He be,
Unknown is ever in Reality:
As far as ear can reach, or eyesight dim,
Thou findest but the known resembling Him;
How high soe'er thy fiery spirit hovers,
Its simile and type it straight discovers;
Onward thou'rt drawn, with feelings light and gay,
Where e'er thou goest, smiling is the way;
No more thou numberest, reckonest no time,
Each step is infinite, each step sublime.
What God would _outwardly_ alone control,
And on His finger whirl the mighty Whole?
He loves the _inner_ world to move, to view
Nature in Him, Himself in Nature, too,