A winged spark doth soar about –
I never met it near
For Lightning it is oft mistook
When nights are hot and sere –
It’s twinkling Travels it pursues
Above the Haunts of men –
A speck of Rapture – first perceived
By feeling it is gone –
A winged spark doth soar about –
I never met it near
For Lightning it is oft mistook
When nights are hot and sere –
It’s twinkling Travels it pursues
Above the Haunts of men –
A speck of Rapture – first perceived
By feeling it is gone –
