When, oh, hark! the wondrous organ of itself began to play
Strains of rare, unearthly sweetness never heard until that day!
All the vaulted arches rang with the music sweet and clear!
All the air was filled with glory, as of angels hovering near;
And ere yet the strain was ended, he who bore the coffin’s head,
With the smile of one forgiven, gently sank beside it—dead.
They who raised the body knew him, and they laid him by his bride;
Down the aisle and o’er the threshold they were carried, side by side;
While the organ played a dirge that no man ever heard before,
And then softly sank to silence—silence kept for evermore.