Текст песни
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert
That from Heaven, or near it
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest
Like a cloud of fire
The blue deep thou wingest
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest
In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun
O'er which clouds are bright'ning
Thou dost float and run
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun
The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight
Like a star of Heaven
In the broad day-light
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight
Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear
Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there
All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud
As, when night is bare
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflow'd
What thou art we know not
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody
Like a Poet hidden
In the light of thought
Singing hymns unbidden
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not
Like a high-born maiden
In a palace-tower
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower
Like a glow-worm golden
In a dell of dew
Scattering unbeholden
Its aëreal hue
Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view
Like a rose embower'd
In its own green leaves
By warm winds deflower'd
Till the scent it gives