Invocation Hans Gál

Rarely, rarely, comest thou
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou art fled away

How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not

I love all that thou lovest
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dressed
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born

I love Love--though he has wings
And like light can flee
But above all other things
Spirit, I love thee --
Thou art love and life! Oh, come
Make once more my heart thy home