In the rustling night-air came the answer:
From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven,
And the sea its long moon-silver'd roll;
For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting
All the fever of some differing soul.
"Bounded by themselves, and unregardful
Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you,
Undistracted by the sights they see,
Feel my soul becoming vast like you!"
In what state God's other works may be,
In their own tasks all their powers pouring,
Who finds himself, loses his misery!"
Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.
"Resolve to be thyself; and know that he,
Over the lit sea's unquiet way,
What I am, and what I ought to be,
"And with joy the stars perform their shining,
At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me
Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.
Weary of myself, and sick of asking
"Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters,
"Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me,
On my heart your mighty charm renew;
O'er the sea and to the stars I send:
And a look of passionate desire
These demand not that the things without them
A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear:
"Wouldst thou be as these are? Live as they.
Calm me, ah, compose me to the end!
O air-born voice! long since, severely clear,
"Unaffrighted by the silence round them,
These attain the mighty life you see."