blue flood; it is inhaled by the glittering, eternally motionless
stone, by the living plant that drinks it in, by the wild and
impetuous beast in its many forms; but above all, by the glorious
stranger, with eyes of intellect, majestic step, with lips
melodious, and gently closed. As a king over earthly nature, it
calls forth to countless changes every power, binds and loosens
bonds unnumbered, and hangs around every earthly being its heavenly
picture. Alone its presence declares the wondrous glory of the
kingdoms the world.

I turn aside to the holy, the inexpressible, the mysterious Night.
Afar off lies the world, buried in some deep chasm: desolate and
lonely is the spot it filled. Through the chords of the breast
sighs deepest sorrow. I will sink down into the dewdrops, and with
ashes will I be commingled. The distant lines of memory, desires of
youth, the dreams of childhood, a whole life's short joys and hopes
vain, unfulfilled, come clothed in grey, like evening mists, when
the sun's glory has departed. Elsewhere has the light broken upon
habitations of gladness. What, should it never return again to its
children, who with the faith of innocence await its coming?

What fount is thus suddenly opened within the heart, so full of
forethought, that destroys the soft breath of sorrow? Thou also--
dost thou love us, gloomy Night? What holdest thou concealed
beneath thy mantle that draws my soul towards thee with such
mysterious power? Costly balsam raineth from thy hand; from thy
horn pourest thou out manna; the heavy wings of the spirit liftest
thou. Darkly and inexpressibly do we feel ourselves moved: a
solemn countenance I behold with glad alarm, that bends towards me
in gentle contemplation, displaying, among endless allurements of