The brooklet seeks you, wind, cloud, with longing thread

And thrust themselves yet higher to the blue,

To spy for you from farthest eagle’s view.

3. My table was spread out for you on high —

Who dwelleth so

Star-near, so near the grisly pit below? —

My realm — what realm hath wider boundary?

My honey — who hath sipped its fragrancy?

4. Friends, ye are there! Woe me, — yet I am not