The exceeding brightness of this early sun

Makes me conceive how dark I have become,

And re-illumines things that used to tum

To gold in broadest blue, and be a part

Of a turning spirit in an earlier self.

That, too, returns from out the winter’s air,

Like an hallucination come to daze

The corner of the eye. Our element,

Cold is our element and winter’s air

Brings voices as of lions coming down.

Oh! Rabbi, rabbi, fend my soul for me

And true savant of this dark nature be.