Where hast thou been, O Soul, in thy sojourning
Out of the body? on what high emprise,
What noble quest, that thus to me returning
I labor at my anchor, fain to rise?
What king hath entertained thee, condescending
To share his plenty with thy low estate?
Why turn away from so divine befriending,
To keep thy faith with me inviolate?

Nay, chide me not, and strive not with me longer;
Breathe thou alone the air thou lovest best.
Some day, perhaps, thy loyal wings grown stronger,
Thou mayst with hope disturb me where I rest.
Now through thy ether shouldst thou lead me, breathless,
To that high Presence where thy name is known,
Into that circle heaven-born and deathless,
How should I shame thee, stained and earthy grown!

Sad is thy mien, ay, even unto weeping. —
Car'st thou so much? Are we so firmly one?
Lift me again from out this deadly sleeping;
Help me to raise mine eyes unto the sun.
Yea, where thou soarest I will follow after —
Far, far below, yet always in thy wake;
Should I sink back, remember it hereafter,
Thus have I striven, and striven for thy sake.