Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. 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(deg) 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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