Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 1548

Here, bathed, Perfection, in thy purest ray,

Free from the clogs and taints of clay,

Hovers divine the Archetypal Man!

Dim as those phantom ghosts of life that gleam

And wander voiceless by the Stygian stream—

Fair as it stands in fields Elysian,

Ere down to Flesh the Immortal doth descend:—

If doubtful ever in the Actual life

Each contest—here a victory crowns the end Of every nobler strife.