While, in the language of their home, they tell
Of its joy and beauty, bidding our souls,
As treasures, keep the whispers which they bring.
For though their sweet voice muffled be and low,
And though thy dewy mist enfold them,
Yet speak they truly with such heavenly power,
That in the joy and light of such a presence
Doth the spirit see this world, and heaven
To be more near than ofttimes we can tell
In the movements of our life; when the links