Alas, what do I say? Send forth thy fires,
O God! Consume this brain that thus aspires
To soar, and dares to pierce the depths of heaven;
And e’en to climb unto the stars has striven!
Creator of our trembling beings, hail!
Of light and youth, of age when forces fail;
Thou that the roses from my brow hast wrenched,
Hast stilled my trembling lips, my longings quenched;
Mist to mine eyes hast given, sobs to my breath:--
Yet thou hast sworn to smile on me in death!
Ah, surely thou hast kept for me a life
Of fragrance, light, and prayer beyond this strife!
But if my latest breath must perish here
All silently, in this dark atmosphere--
From now a flash of lightning I would be,
Coiled round thy name, and, murmuring ceaselessly,
A curse I would become to pierce Thy side--
God, the Arch Enemy, I would deride!
Ah me, I tremble, and am pale as death.
My brain seethes like a hell; a sobbing breath