By the low, clear silvery gushing
Of its music from thy breast;
By the quivering of its flute-like swell—
A sound of the heart’s unrest;
By its fond and plaintive lingering
On each word of grief so long.
Oh! thou hast loved and suffer’d much—
I know it by thy song!
LIGHTS AND SHADES.
The gloomiest day hath gleams of light;