Yet viewless love floats round thee silently!
Not midst the festal throng,
In halls of mirth and song;
But when thy thoughts are deepest,
When holy tears thou weepest,
Know then that love is nigh!
When the night’s whisper o’er thy harp-strings creeping,
Or the sea-music on the sounding shore,
Or breezy anthems through the forest sweeping,
Shall move thy trembling spirit to adore;