II.

Upward! upward evermore, To Heaven's open gate I soar! Little thoughts are far behind me, Which, when custom weaves together, All the nobler man can tether-- Cobwebs now no more can bind me! Now fold thy wings a little while, My trancèd soul, and lie At rest on this Calypso-isle That floats in mellow sky, A thousand isles with gentle motion Rock upon the sunset ocean; A thousand isles of thousand hues, How bright! how beautiful! how rare! Into my spirit they infuse A purer, a diviner air; The earth is growing dimmer, And now the last faint glimmer Hath faded from the hill; But in my higher atmosphere The sun-light streameth red and clear, Fringing the islets still;-- Love lifts us to the sun-light, Though the whole world would be dark; Love, wide Love, is the one light, All else is but a fading spark; Love is the nectar which doth fill Our soul's cup even to overflowing, And, warming heart, and thought, and will, Doth lie within us mildly glowing, From its own centre raying out Beauty and Truth on all without.