I would I might forget that I am I, 
And break the heavy chain that binds me fast, 
Whose links about myself my deeds have cast. 
What in the body's tomb doth buried lie 
Is boundless; 'tis the spirit of the sky, 
Lord of the future, guardian of the past, 
And soon must forth, to know his own at last. 
In his large life to live, I fain would die. 
Happy the dumb beast, hungering for food, 
But calling not his suffering his own; 
Blessed the angel, gazing on all good, 
But knowing not he sits upon a throne; 
Wretched the mortal, pondering his mood, 
And doomed to know his aching heart alone.