To make me great they drove him from my side,
And foully wrought with shame his name to cover--
My boy, my lord, my prince! In vain they lied!
But should I always suffer for their false, inhuman pride?

O day and night! O day and night! I left them flying,
I fled by day and night as flies the nomad breeze,
Across the silent land when light to dark was dying,
And onward like a spirit lost across the seas;
And on from sea and shore thro' apple-orchards blooming,
Till all things melted in a moving haze;
And on with rush and ring by tower and townlet glooming,
By wood, and field, and hill, by verdant ways,
While dawn to mid-day drew, and noon was lost in sunset blaze.

O day and night! O day and night! light once more waxing,
Still on with courage high, tho' strength was well-nigh spent;
Grim spectres of pursuit the wearied brain perplexing,
Fear-fraught, but ever met with spirit dedolent.
The landscape reeled, there came a sense of slumber,
And myriad shadows rose and wanned and waned,
And flitting figures, visions without number,
Took shape above the land till sight was pained,
And floated round me till at last the longed-for goal I gained.

O day and night! O day and night! with rest abounding,
The soothing sinking down on hard-earned holy rest,
With grateful ease that grew from all the calm surrounding,
A languid, dreamful ease, my soul became possessed.
The hoarse sea-wind comes soughing, sighing, singing,