Thou seem’st prepar’d for flight,
Far from this lower sphere,
To realms of purer light;—
And what should keep thee here?
Yet on that brow the spell
Of pensive thought seems set,
As if to say, “Farewell!”
Inspir’d a brief regret.
Would earthly love restrain
Thy spirit here below?—
How fearful, brief, and vain,
All love that earth can know!
In heaven—in heaven alone,
Now brightly breaking round,
Love’s purest joys are known;
There be thy spirit bound!
Fear’st thou that path of clouds,
Which first thy feet must climb?
Darkness its base enshrouds;
Its end is light sublime.
And see that cherub pair,
Who seem to chide delay;
Doubt not their guiding care—
Away! away! away!
B. B.