THE CLOISTER ON KASBEK
Martha Dickinson Bianchi translation
KASBEK, thy regal canopy High o'er all peaks revealed I see By an eternal icy glare. Hanging in cloudless glory ever— Like to an ark thy cloister there; This world disturbing thy peace never, Blest realm of joy remote in air! Ah could I at thy mercy's threshold, From durance cursed set myself free, And in thine own etherial cloisters Near thy Creator ever be!