Ein amerikanischer Diogenes (Henry D. Thoreau)

Smoke.Light – winged Smoke! Icarian bird,Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight;Lark without song and messenger of dawn,Circling above the hamlets as thy nest;Or else, departing dream and shadowy formOf midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts;By night star-veiling, and by dayDarkening the night and blotting out the sun;Go thou. my incense, upward from this hearth,And ask the gods to pardon this clear flame.