From my dreamings I would coax Soft an image in scent-woven web; I would weave rings passing fair From the locks of my own hair; Night-encompassed, heart's blood I would swell That, from waves of dream, fire-image well, Image, ebbing and a-flowing, Fair in love, Aeolian music sighing. It would soar, all golden shining, And the little house would arch up higher, And my locks would wander, curling, Divinest girl in darkness furling, Forth in pearly songs my blood would flow, Streaming round the marble shoulders' glow, And the lamp would flicker Suns, My heart would flood Heaven's dome. Down would shake the rooms all round, But for me, grown into Giant-Hero, In his mighty gaze high festal fire, World-great would be storm's lyre, Thunder-song my heart would beat amain Suns would be its love and rock its pain, Proudly-humble, I'd sink down, Proud-audacious, rush unto the breast.
Book of verse--Karl Marx