Land Meiner Rückkehr

By a road obscure and queer,
Full of angels in the eir,
Where an Angel King named DAWN,
On golden throne reigns bygone,
I have reached my lands in thought,
Hyperborea besought,
Jacobine ladder in the mind,
Out of space and out of time.

Racing eyes unseen by Saturn,
Jupiter blind thereon astern,
Eyes quickened aghast in awe,
Look onward to the King of All,
Who enthroned those orders hurl,
Stirs the stars and planets whirl,
Gusts gush forth by spirit winds,
Numberless hands move stars entwined,
Suns of bleu hang in grey skiey,
Moons of ebony dwell nearby,
Swirling foaming clouds of dust,
On fathomless aether made of mist,
Toil a nether gyre of lapis,
Distending as a crystal lattice,
As of water without mold,
Glossy surfs of depths untold,
Into grey-greene knolls of soot,
Terra firma - point of moot,
Into mountain rock of bronze,
Burns a bush in speech Archon’s,
Down the valleys into rivers,
Where wingèd eidol nigh doth shiver,
Into somnolent meadow merry,
Where bide ichor of faerie,
Of carousel drunken madness,
And blackened sorrow full of sadness,
There the pilgrim meets at last,
The four things of centuries past,
A sea of memories of the mind,
Memories mortal left behind,
Feelings fleeting a portal to,
A time when ‘twas encountered new,
The wonderful sense of sight and soul,
Now condemned to pit of Sheol,
And there lo a centre figure final,
Of a quiddity albinal,
A lovely lady robbed of white,
Whose expression dawns a fretful fright,
With lengthy locks of lavender,
And blurry face that leaks of myrre,
Beguiling eyes that speak of greene,
Glowing light of joy foreseen,
And a body so soft and tender,
With touch like lightning awe engender,
See! her dress it stretcheth far,
Spilleth into silent dreams memoir,
Of such a hem I try to grasp,
To no avail reach that royal aesp,
And so I fall from height unknown,
Nigh hear a Tantalus weep and groan,
Down height of heaven so I descend,
Of guilt of flesh I fail to mend.

By a road obscure and queer,
Full of angels in the eir,
Where an Angel King named DAWN,
On golden throne reigns bygone,
I’ve there from my land returned,
Wishful longing it I yearn,
Streams that flow from river of eye,
For wot I again I’ll see in Lethe.