University of Virginia Library


140

LXXXV
AN EVENING WALK

At fall of night we wandered forth to muse,
And arm in arm pursued the shadowy lane,
Careless where Fate might lead, or Fancy choose
To draw our footsteps in her silver chain.
Enough to know the grandeur overhead,
And feel the voiceless music of the hour,
That symphony which wakes responsive power
In every heart of man not wholly dead:
Or even dead, what heart but lives again,
Recalled to being by so sweet a strain?
At times like this, the outer air is fraught
With some soft spell, which moves to harmony
The human soul within, till all our thought
Is touched with pathos—and we know not why