Descend, O little cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel. O little cloud, the virgin said, I charge thee to tell me why thou complainest now when in one hour thou fade away. Then we shall seek thee but not find. Ah, Thel is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain and no one hears my voice. The cloud then showed his golden head and his bright form emerged. And fearest thou because I vanish and am seen no more. It is to tenfold life, to love, to peace and raptures holy, unseen descending, weigh my light wings upon balmy flowers and court the fair eyed dew to take me to her shining tent. The weeping virgin trembling kneels before the risen sun. Till we arise linked in a golden band and never part but walk united bearing food to all our tender flowers. Lives not alone nor of itself. Fear not and I will call the weak worm from its lowly bed and thou shalt hear its voice. Come forth worm and the silent valley to thy pensive queen. The helpless worm arose and sat upon the lily's leaf and the bright cloud sailed on to find his partner in the vale. Image of weakness, art thou but a worm? I see they lay helpless and naked, weeping and none to answer, none to cherish thee with mother's smiles. And says, thou mother of my children, I have loved thee and I have given thee a crown that none can take away. And lay me down in thy cold bed and leave my shining lot.