Elysian Fields

Sometimes I miss myself
on nights I'm forced to be a medical student.

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Joy, beautiful spark of the gods,

Daughter of Elysium,

Touched with fire, to the portal,

Of thy radiant shrine, we come.

Your sweet magic frees all others,

Held in Custom's rigid rings.

All men on earth become brothers,

In the haven of your wings.

-Friedrich Schiller
(from the poem that inspired Beethoven's Ode to Joy movement of his Ninth Symphony)