Life is the desert and the solitude

WHENCE this fever?
Whence this burning
Love and Longing?
Ah! forever,
Ever turning,
Ever thronging
Tow'rds the Distance,
Roams each fonder
Yearning yonder,
There, where wander
Golden stars in blest existence!

Thence what fragrant
Airs are blowing!
What rich vagrant
Music flowing!
Angel voices
Tones wherein the
Heart rejoices,
Call from thence from Earth to win thee!

How yearns and burns for evermore
My heart for thee, thou blessed shore!
And shall I never see thy fairy

Bowers and palace-gardens near?
Will no enchanted skitf so airy,

Sail from thee to seek me here?
O! undeveloped Land,

Whereto I fain would flee,
What mighty hand shall break each band

That keeps my soul from thee?
In vain I pine and sigh

To trace thy dells and streams:
They gleam but by the spectral sky

That lights my shifting dreams.
Ah! what fair form, flitting through yon green glades,

Dazes mine eye? Spirit, oh! rive my chain!
Woe is my soul! Swiftly the vision fades,
And I start up — waking — to weep in vain!

Hence this fever;
Hence this burning
Love and Longing:
Hence forever,
Ever turning,
Ever thronging,
Tow'rds the Distance,
Koams each fonder
Yearning yonder,
There, where wander
Golden stars in blest existence!