Towards democracy

4l4 Towards Democracy

What can surpass all this, or what compare ?

Could riches or fame?

Or if the Thebans honor me for their law-giver,

Or thou, Diocles, in Olyimpic fields art victor beloved and crowned,

What are these things to that?

And still thou growest upon me, as a mountain, Seen from another mountain-summit, rises Clearer, more grand, more beautiful than ever ; And still within thine eyes, and ever plainer,

I see my own soul sleeping.

Say, did not Love, the Olympian blacksmith, find us, AZons ago, in heaven, And weld our souls together before all worlds?

II.

When thou art far, and the days go by without thee

Strangely I suffer.

Perhaps even so in winter suffer the plants and the trees, when the Sun withdraws his life-ray ;

Thin runs the blood in my limbs, sucked out of the arteries ;

The heart shrinks closed and painful—I lose command and vigor;

At times like these, methinks, I too have strayed from my body,

Afar, in pursuit of thee, my sun and my savior.