Now here, now there;
E’er posed somewhere
In sensuous air.
I only hear, I cannot see
The matchless winds that beareth thee.
Art thou some frenzied poet’s thought,
That God embodied and forgot?
Now here, now there;
E’er posed somewhere
In sensuous air.
I only hear, I cannot see
The matchless winds that beareth thee.
Art thou some frenzied poet’s thought,
That God embodied and forgot?