I AM HERE TO sing thee songs. In this hall of thine I have a corner seat. In thy world I have no work to do; my useless life can only break out in tunes without a purpose. When the hour strikes for thy silent worship at the dark temple of midnight, command me, my master, to stand before thee to sing. When in the morning air the golden harp is tuned, honour me, commanding my presence.
COME TO ME like summer cloud, spreading thy showers from sky to sky. Deepen the purple of the hills with thy majestic shadows, quicken the languid forests into flowers, and awaken in the hill-streams the fervour of the far-away quest. Come to me like summer cloud, stirring my heart with the promise of hidden life, and the gladness of the green.
