EN some beloved voice that was to
Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly,
And silence, against which you dare not cry,
Aches round you like a strong disease and new—What hope ? what help ? what music will
That silence to your sense ?
Not friendship's sigh,
Not reason's subtle count; not
Of viols, nor of pipes that Faunus blew;
Not songs of poets, nor of
Whose hearts leap upward through the
To the clear moon; nor yet the spheric
Self-chanted, nor the angels' sweet ' All hails,'Met in the smile of God: nay, none of these.
Speak
OU, availing Christ !—and fill this pause.
