Pantheism
Ye wakeful stars, to you I never breathed it,
To thee, all-seeing sun, no whisper came:
About my heart in silence I enwreathed it,
That fairest flower of all things fair—her name.
Yet one star to another repeats my story,
When darkling night sheds down her welcome boon:
And lo, the great sun, when he sinks in glory,
Murmurs my secret to the silver moon.
The shady hills and joyful meadows know it,
'Tis told bYevery tree to every flower:
The birds fly past me singing: ‘Gloomy poet,
At length thou feelest love's enchanting power.’
I never spake it, yet the earth and heaven
Shout her dear name in universal glee:
'Mid scents by blossoming acacias given
The world-soul whispers: ‘Thy love loveth thee.’
To thee, all-seeing sun, no whisper came:
About my heart in silence I enwreathed it,
That fairest flower of all things fair—her name.
Yet one star to another repeats my story,
When darkling night sheds down her welcome boon:
And lo, the great sun, when he sinks in glory,
Murmurs my secret to the silver moon.
The shady hills and joyful meadows know it,
'Tis told bYevery tree to every flower:
The birds fly past me singing: ‘Gloomy poet,
At length thou feelest love's enchanting power.’
I never spake it, yet the earth and heaven
Shout her dear name in universal glee:
'Mid scents by blossoming acacias given
The world-soul whispers: ‘Thy love loveth thee.’
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