Heaven sain him! fair or foul,—
And whatsoe'er may be his prayer,
Let ours be for his soul.
XLI.
The lady's voice ceased, and the thrilling wires
Died from the touch that kindled them to sound;
And the pause followed, which when song expires
Pervades a moment those who listen round;
And then of course the circle much admires,
Nor less applauds, as in politeness bound,