Raw nearer still and wrap me in thy flame! Etherealize my body, lift my soul On some Wild Wind to Song's supernal goal, O rapture of the Spirit poets claim! Lighten the feet of fancy that are lame° Unbind the mortal gyves, for I would snatch Talaria no ankle-winged could match, Filch from the gods their fire and bear the blame. And I With pinions emulous of thine, Eagle of Jove, that circles the divine, Would rise to Wider Vision, face to face, With deity in empyrean space; Lift to the stars my prayer for beauty's light, Standing in pride on Song's transcendent height.
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