Thy voice is on the rolling air;
      I hear thee where the waters run;
      Thou standest in the rising sun, 
And in the setting thou art fair. 
What art thou then? I cannot guess;
      But tho' I seem in star and flower
      To feel thee some diffusive power, 
I do not therefore love thee less: 
My love involves the love before;
      My love is vaster passion now;
      Tho' mix'd with God and Nature thou, 
I seem to love thee more and more. 
Far off thou art, but ever nigh;
      I have thee still, and I rejoice;
      I prosper, circled with thy voice; 
I shall not lose thee tho' I die. 
Last modified 16 February 2010
