I KNOW NOT how thou singest, my master! I ever listen in silent amazement. The light of thy music illumines the world. The life breath of thy music runs from sky to sky. The holy stream of thy music breaks through all stony obstacles and rushes on. My heart longs to join in thy song, but vainly struggles for a voice. I would speak, but speech breaks not into song, and I cry out baffled. Ah, thou hast made my heart captive in the endless meshes of thy music, my master!
WHEN I ROSE from my sleep I found a basket of oranges at my feet, my mind wondered who could be the giver of such a gift; my guesses flew from one name to another but sweet names were abandoned like flowers in the Spring, and all varied names combined to make this gift a perfect one.
