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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420525" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hymns From The French Of Lamartine</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>'Encore un hymne, O ma lyre<br>Un hymn pour le Seigneur,<br>Un hymne dans mon delire,<br>Un hymne dans mon bonheur.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>One hymn more, O my lyre!<br>Praise to the God above,<br>Of joy and life and love,<br>Sweeping its strings of fire!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, who the speed of bird and wind<br>And sunbeam's glance will lend to me,<br>That, soaring upward, I may find<br>My resting-place and home in Thee?<br>Thou, whom my soul, midst doubt and gloom,<br>Adoreth with a fervent flame,--<br>Mysterious spirit! unto whom<br>Pertain nor sign nor name!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Swiftly my lyre's soft murmurs go,<br>Up from the cold and joyless earth,<br>Back to the God who bade them flow,<br>Whose moving spirit sent them forth.<br>But as for me, O God! for me,<br>The lowly creature of Thy will,<br>Lingering and sad, I sigh to Thee,<br>An earth-bound pilgrim still!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was not my spirit born to shine<br>Where yonder stars and suns are glowing?<br>To breathe with them the light divine<br>From God's own holy altar flowing?<br>To be, indeed, whate'er the soul<br>In dreams hath thirsted for so long,--<br>A portion of heaven's glorious whole<br>Of loveliness and song?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, watchers of the stars at night,<br>Who breathe their fire, as we the air,--<br>Suns, thunders, stars, and rays of light,<br>Oh, say, is He, the Eternal, there?<br>Bend there around His awful throne<br>The seraph's glance, the angel's knee?<br>Or are thy inmost depths His own,<br>O wild and mighty sea?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thoughts of my soul, how swift ye go!<br>Swift as the eagle's glance of fire,<br>Or arrows from the archer's bow,<br>To the far aim of your desire!<br>Thought after thought, ye thronging rise,<br>Like spring-doves from the startled wood,<br>Bearing like them your sacrifice<br>Of music unto God!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And shall these thoughts of joy and love<br>Come back again no more to me?<br>Returning like the patriarch's dove<br>Wing-weary from the eternal sea,<br>To bear within my longing arms<br>The promise-bough of kindlier skies,<br>Plucked from the green, immortal palms<br>Which shadow Paradise?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All-moving spirit! freely forth<br>At Thy command the strong wind goes<br>Its errand to the passive earth,<br>Nor art can stay, nor strength oppose,<br>Until it folds its weary wing<br>Once more within the hand divine;<br>So, weary from its wandering,<br>My spirit turns to Thine!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Child of the sea, the mountain stream,<br>From its dark caverns, hurries on,<br>Ceaseless, by night and morning's beam,<br>By evening's star and noontide's sun,<br>Until at last it sinks to rest,<br>O'erwearied, in the waiting sea,<br>And moans upon its mother's breast,--<br>So turns my soul to Thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Thou who bidst the torrent flow,<br>Who lendest wings unto the wind,--<br>Mover of all things! where art Thou?<br>Oh, whither shall I go to find<br>The secret of Thy resting-place?<br>Is there no holy wing for me,<br>That, soaring, I may search the space<br>Of highest heaven for Thee?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, would I were as free to rise<br>As leaves on autumn's whirlwind borne,--<br>The arrowy light of sunset skies,<br>Or sound, or ray, or star of morn,<br>Which melts in heaven at twilight's close,<br>Or aught which soars unchecked and free<br>Through earth and heaven; that I might lose<br>Myself in finding Thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II.<br>LE CRI DE L'AME.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Quand le souffle divin qui flotte sur le monde.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the breath divine is flowing,<br>Zephyr-like o'er all things going,<br>And, as the touch of viewless fingers,<br>Softly on my soul it lingers,<br>Open to a breath the lightest,<br>Conscious of a touch the slightest,--<br>As some calm, still lake, whereon<br>Sinks the snowy-bosomed swan,<br>And the glistening water-rings<br>Circle round her moving wings<br>When my upward gaze is turning<br>Where the stars of heaven are burning<br>Through the deep and dark abyss,<br>Flowers of midnight's wilderness,<br>Blowing with the evening's breath<br>Sweetly in their Maker's path<br>When the breaking day is flushing<br>All the east, and light is gushing<br>Upward through the horizon's haze,<br>Sheaf-like, with its thousand rays,<br>Spreading, until all above<br>Overflows with joy and love,<br>And below, on earth's green bosom,<br>All is changed to light and blossom:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When my waking fancies over<br>Forms of brightness flit and hover<br>Holy as the seraphs are,<br>Who by Zion's fountains wear<br>On their foreheads, white and broad,<br>'Holiness unto the Lord!'<br>When, inspired with rapture high,<br>It would seem a single sigh<br>Could a world of love create;<br>That my life could know no date,<br>And my eager thoughts could fill<br>Heaven and Earth, o'erflowing still!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, O Father! Thou alone,<br>From the shadow of Thy throne,<br>To the sighing of my breast<br>And its rapture answerest.<br>All my thoughts, which, upward winging,<br>Bathe where Thy own light is springing,--<br>All my yearnings to be free<br>Are at echoes answering Thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Seldom upon lips of mine,<br>Father! rests that name of Thine;<br>Deep within my inmost breast,<br>In the secret place of mind,<br>Like an awful presence shrined,<br>Doth the dread idea rest<br>Hushed and holy dwells it there,<br>Prompter of the silent prayer,<br>Lifting up my spirit's eye<br>And its faint, but earnest cry,<br>From its dark and cold abode,<br>Unto Thee, my Guide and God!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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'Encore un hymne, O ma lyre
Un hymn pour le Seigneur,
Un hymne dans mon delire,
Un hymne dans mon bonheur.'


One hymn more, O my lyre!
Praise to the God above,
Of joy and life and love,
Sweeping its strings of fire!

Oh, who the speed of bird ..."></div>
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