I wanted, boldly daring,
Sea-going ways to follow,
Where a thousand crags rise soaring,
And Floods flow bleak and hollow.

I clung to Thought high-soaring,
On its two wings did ride,
And though storm winds were roaring,
All danger I defied.

I did not falter there,
But ever on did press
With the wild eagle's stare
On journeys limitless.

And though the Siren spins
Her music so endearing
Whereby the heart she wins --
I gave that sound no hearing.

I turned away mine ear
From the sweet sounds I heard,
My bosom did aspire
To a loftier reward.

Alas, the waves sped on,
At rest they would not be;
There swept by many a one
Too swift for me to see.

With magic power and word
I cast what spells I knew,
But forth the waves still roared,
Till they were gone from view.

And by the Flood sore pressed,
And dizzy at the sight,
I tumbled from that host
Into the misty night.

And when I rose again
From fruitless toil at last,
My powers all were gone,
And all the heart's glow lost

And trembling, pale, I long
Gazed into my own breast;
By no uplifiting song
Was my affliction blessed.

My songs were flown, alack;
The sweetest Art was gone --
No God would give it back
Nor Grace of Deathless One.

The Fortress had sunk down
That once so bold did stand;
The fiery glow was drowned,
Void was the bosom's land.

Then shone your radiance,
The purest light of soul,
Where in a changing dance
Round Earth the Heavens roll.

Then was I captive bound,
Then was my vision clear,
For I had truly found
What my dark strivings were.

Soul rang more strong, more free,
Out of the deep-stirred breast
In triumph heavenly,
And in sheer happiness.

My spirits then and there
Soared, jubilant and gay,
And, like a sorcerer,
Their courses did I sway.

I left the waves that rush,
The floods that change and flow,
On the high cliff to crash,
But saved the inner glow.

And what my Soul, Fate-driven
Never in flight o'ertook,
That to my heart was given,
Was granted by your look.

(written between November 1836 and February 1837)