No more!
Through woods that shadow’d our first years to rove
With all our native music in the air;
To watch the sunset with the eyes we love,
And turn, and read our own heart’s answer there—
No more!
Words of despair!—yet earth’s, all earth’s the woe
Their passion breathes—the desolately deep!
That sound in heaven—oh! image then the flow
Of gladness in its tones—to part, to weep—