The Artist’s Evening Song

Oh, for some inner creative force Through my mind, echoing! That through my hands might course A sap-filled blossoming. I only shudder, I only stutter, And yet can’t halt: at last, I feel I know you, Nature, And must hold you fast. When I think how all these years My powers have been growing, And where barren heath appeared Now streams of joy are flowing: How I yearn for you, Nature, then, And long for you, with faith and love! For me you’ll be the leaping fountain, A thousand springs will hurl above. And every single power In my mind you’ll heighten, And this narrow being-here To Eternity you’ll widen.