Beyond heaven’s shuttered dome
I have found a way to come
Where swifter than thought may fly
The breath of a morning sigh.

Falcon thou art, and hast made
Thy nest in the grassy glade,
And? its air, I am fearful, might
Foreshorten thy pinion’s flight.

Art thou dust become? It is clear
Thou canst not be resting here;
On the breeze of the morning ride,
Sit not by the roadway side.

From the stream of the stars arise
And cross the Nile of the skies;
For the heart must die right soon
If it lodge, though it be in the moon.

Let its breast no longer beam
With the rockless lightning’s gleam,
Less worth than a straw reckon I
The mountain of Sinai.

How men may the manners keep
Of the throng, yet consuming leap
Ask not of us, whom the gaze
Of the passing fair one slays.

When I am dead, this may lay
Men will recite, and say:
"One man, who was self-aware,
Transformed a world everywhere!"