HE soul of
Resembleth water:
From heaven it cometh,
To heaven it soareth.
And then
To earth descendeth,
Changing ever.
Down from the
Rocky
Streams the bright flood,
Then spreadeth
In cloudy billowsO'er the smooth rock,
And welcomed kindly,
Veiling, on roams it,
Soft murmuring,
Tow'rd the abyss.
Cliffs
Oppose its progress,—Angrily foams
Down to the bottom,
Step by step.
Now, in flat channel,
Through the meadowland steals it,
And in the polish'd
Each
Joyously peepeth.
Wind is the
Wooer of waters;
Wind blends
Billows all-foaming.
Spirit of man,
Thou art like unto water!
Fortune of man,
Thou art like unto wind!
