In those old times wherein Theology
Flourished with greater sap and energy,
A celebrated doctor—so they say—
Having stirred many careless hearts one day
Down to their dullest depths,...
|
To pay his ransom man must toil |
So proud your port, your arm so powerful. |
Then I will dream of blue horizons deep; |
I know your heart, which overflows |
Here is a woman, richly clad and fair, |
I am as lovely as a dream in stone, |
Thou, O my Grief, be wise and tranquil still, |
Should dream that eagles and insects, streams and woods, |
Robed in a silken robe that shines and shakes, |