For hark! how the notes of gladness pour
Through the window over the stable-door!
In such secluded spot, I fear
’T were sacrilege to venture near;—
Half guiltily I close the book,
And turn, unseen, an eager look
To the window over the stable-door,
Whence still those notes of gladness pour.
Ah! now the meaning plain I see
Of that sweet-throated mystery;—