You dance round and around In shimmering rays of light,Your soaring shapes abound In number infinite.

Here breaks the noblest Soul,The full heart bursts in twain,And like a jewel in gold Is clasped by mortal pain.

It turns on you its look Darkly,compellingly,From you,babelike,would suck Hope and Eternity.

Alas,your light is never More than aethereally rare.

No divine being ever Cast into you his fire.

You are false images,Faces of radiant flame;

Heart's warmth and tenderness And Soul you cannot claim.

A mockery is your shining Of Action,Pain,Desire.

On you is dashed all yearning And the heart's song of fire.

Grieving,we must turn grey,End in despair and pain,Then see the mockery That Earth and Heaven remain;

That,as we tremble even,And worlds within us drown,No tree trunk's ever riven,No star goes plunging down.

Dead you'd be otherwise,Your grave the ocean blue,All gone,the shining rays,And all fire spent in you.

Truth you'd speak silently,Not dazzle with dead light,Nor shine in clarity;

And all round would be Night.