Life hath such longings, bitter sweet, And yet so few it satisfies That man fain dreams life is complete Only beyond the skies. And like the mystic cloud of fire That guided Israel’s way by night, Every unsatisfied desire Leads man towards the right. Around him, mingling with the dust, Youth’s pure ideals, shattered, lie; Hope, virtue, charity and trust Amid life’s deserts die. Fade aspirations, fades each dream Of goodness, honor and renown. Man floats on a polluted stream, Which fain would drag him down. But music, like the nightingale That sweetly sings in woodland brakes, When hope and trust and virtue fail, Man’s nobler nature wakes. Only in music doth man find An echo of the dreams of youth, When he saw gods among mankind, In woman only truth. |