Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/15

 , oh my Soul, with the wings of the lark ascend!
 * Soaring away and away far into the blue.

Or with the shrill seagull to the breakers bend, Or with the bee, where the grasses and field-flowers blend,
 * Drink out of golden cups of the honey-dew.

Ascend, oh my Soul, on the wings of the wind as it blows,
 * Striking wild organ-blasts from the forest trees,

Or on the zephyr bear love of the rose to the rose,