O nightingale of song, arise,And chant the strain that melts our eyes;
And breathe to men a secret deepLest we, in fear, our vigil keep.
No loyalty on earth is foundTo fill the youthful heart's fair ground;
That rivals truth in earnest zealAnd everlasting splendour's seal.
Those are the signs of loftier flightThat guard life's summit from the night.
O flower of Eden's bower, arise,And pour thy fragrance to the skies;
O blossom, grant me perfume sweetFrom paradise's waters fleet.
Behold, O flower, my heart lies here,By time long folded, far and near;
No trace of age upon it shows—Thou'lt find a heart still young that glows.
It loves not weakness—God forbid—Nor feigned affection's hollow bid.
Would I knew what has dimmed mine eye—What tears have marred its clarity?!
O breeze of morning, draw thou near,And spread thy fragrance pure and clear;
And grant the heart a lucid graceTo serve bright Art in noble place.
I bear a spirit vast and freeThat loves all beauty's majesty;
It watches heaven, and doth aspireTo find there souls of like desire.
It loves all men without disdain,And honours genius' sacred reign!
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