I stooped from star-bright regions, where
Thou canst not enter even in prayer;
And thought to light thy heart and hearth
With all the poesy of earth.
Oh, foolish hope! those mystic gleams
To thee were unsubstantial dreams;
The paltry world had made thee blind,
And shut thy heart and dulled thy mind.
I was a vassal at thy feet,
And cringed more meanly than was meet,
And since I dared not to be free,
Was scouted as a slave should be.
I gave thee all -- my truth, my trust --
I bowed my spirit in the dust,
I put a crown upon thy brow,
And am its proper victim now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.