 | The Poetry of Real Life |  |
COMPOSED IN THE WHISPERING-GALLERY AT ST. PAUL'S.
Here stand I, and receive into my earThe threadlike lines of sound: not brokenly,
Nor yet confused, but gathered, as they fly,
To their true focus, in one utterance clear;
For here, from all points of the hemisphere,
The lines converge, coinstantaneously;
And, though so many, yet all these do I
But as one, single sound harmonious hear.
So in this vast world to Faith's ear, if true,
There is a point, where all its whispers too
Converge—where all that speaks in earth and skies
Is gathered in one mighty Word, which through
All Nature thrills, to which each heart replies,
The burthen of her endless harmonies!
| The Poetry of Real Life | |