your souls behind you
turn, gently moved!
Our voices feel along to find you,
O lost, beloved!
trong-marshalled angels,
they press and pierce:
Our requiems follo on our evangels,—
Voice throbs in verse.
e are but orps left in Eden
A time ago:
God gave us golden cups, and we were bidden
to feed you so.
But now our righ no cup remaining,
No o do,
tic , and staining
through.
Most ineradicable stains, for showing
(Not interfused!)
t brighe world’s foregoing,
than shall be used.
hearken, oh hearken! ye shall hearken surely
For years and years,
the noise beside you, dripping coldly, purely,
Of spirits’ tears.
to a beautiful denied you,
Srain your powers.
Ideal snesses shall over-glide you,
Resumed from ours.
In all your music, our patic minor
Your ears shall cross;
And all good gifts shall mind you of diviner,
ith sense of loss.
e s-languors
And remes,
time ye vex t h vain angers,
Or mock h dreams.
And wer roaming,
Deat,
By the coming,
t.