At whose blest sound divine
My soul that in forgetfulness hath lain
   With a new light doth shine
And unto memory plain
   Of its first splendid origin attain.

Up through the fields of air
It wings, till in the highest sphere it dwells
And a new music there
It hears, music that wells
Undying, and all other kinds excels.

-- Luis de Leon (trans. Anon.)
(in Poetry for the Spirit,
edited by Alan Jacobs)