 | The Two Brothers, and other poems |  |
169
ON AN AIR OF NOVELLO'S—AVE VERUM.
Comes it to thee with a sound of joy,
Glad-hearted sister mine?
Like the reckless bound of the mountain boy,
Or his mirthsome eye divine?
Glad-hearted sister mine?
Like the reckless bound of the mountain boy,
Or his mirthsome eye divine?
Oh, list again—it has sorrowful deeps,
Thou hast not fathom'd yet;
'Tis a loving passionate heart that weeps
Tears, none who shed forget.
Thou hast not fathom'd yet;
'Tis a loving passionate heart that weeps
Tears, none who shed forget.
It speaketh of life,—of beautiful life,
A tissue strange and fair,
Yet enwoven with threads of tenderest grief,
And dark shades here and there.
A tissue strange and fair,
Yet enwoven with threads of tenderest grief,
And dark shades here and there.
170
It leads the soul to the twilight sky,
And the stars peep forth in turn,
But a weeping train of clouds is by
To dim them as they burn.
And the stars peep forth in turn,
But a weeping train of clouds is by
To dim them as they burn.
Speaks it of hope? yes, hope in tears,
From some far distant shore;
Music that steals from the nightly spheres,
Yet sounding, sounds no more.
From some far distant shore;
Music that steals from the nightly spheres,
Yet sounding, sounds no more.
Watton, 1845.
| The Two Brothers, and other poems | |