Bring Flowers!
Where do ye bear me? Into what solitude
'Midst groves and valleys? Daughters of Helicon!
Have ye awakened new fires in my bosom?
Have ye transported my spirit?
Here in this quiet temple of loneliness
Will I pour out the songs of divinity
To the Hungarian Minerva, and worship
At the immortal one's altar.
Yes! I will read all the deeds of futurity.
Dark-mantled groves, sweet fountains of gentleness,
Have ye not thoughts to overwhelm me with transport,
And to upbear me to heaven?
As ye have borne the bright virgins of victory,
Whom with a passionate longing for blessedness
Fain I would follow; and breathing of glory,
Heavenly sisters! I hail ye.