O, Thy Bright Eyes Must Answer Now, When Reason, With A Scornful Brow, Is Mocking At My Overthrow! O, Thy Sweet Tongue Must Plead For Me, And Tell Why I Have Chosen Thee! Stern Reason Is To Judgment Come, Arrayed In All Her Forms Of Gloom: Wilt Thou, My Advocate, Be Dumb? No, Radiant Angel, Speak And Say Why I Did Cast The World Away; Why I Have Presevered To Shun The Common Paths That Others Run, And On A Strange Road Journeyed On, Heedless Alike Of Wealth And Power, Of Glory'S Wreath And Pleasure'S Flower. These Once, Indeed, Seemed Beings Divine; And They, Perchance, Heard Vows Of Mine, And Saw My Offerings On Their Shrine; But Careless Gifts Are Seldom Prized, And Mine Were Worthily Despised. So, With A Ready Heart I Swore To Seek Their Altar-Stone No More; And Gave My Spirit To Adore Thee, Ever-Present, Phantom Thing My Slave, My Comrade, And My King. A Slave, Because I Rule Thee Still, Incline Thee To My Changeful Will, And Make Thy Influence Good Or Ill; A Comrade, For By Day And Night Thou Art My Intimate Delight, My Darling Pain That Wounds And Sears, And Wrings A Blessing Out Of Tears Be Deadening Me To Earthly Cares; And Yet, A King, Though Prudence Well Have Taught Thy Subject To Rebel. And I Am Wrong To Worship Where Faith Cannot Doubt, Nor Hope Despair, Since My Own Soul Can Grant My Prayer? Speak, God Of Visions, Plead For Me, And Tell Why I Have Chosen Thee!