Excelsior

(1009)  Alor rath jay

Light's chariot, it proceeds,
It proceeds, it proceeds.
Having passed by groves of Kans grass,
Traversing jasmine-littered paths
And cutting cross the dew-soaked tracts,
Toward the sky it does spy, spy, spy.

Having consorted with life's pollen,
Flashing in a mental niche
And crushing walls of obstruction,
To an unknown place it does race, race, race.

Having cleared aside amassed clouds,
Thereby the colored heavens roused
And a sweet touch brought about,
The hymn of remote country it does sing, sing, sing.

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