That full and fuller on the ear the tides of music swell;
And then angelically clear the young man’s voice did flow
In the elder’s pauses, like a choir of spirits, weird and low.
They sing of spring and true love, of an age of golden youth,
Of freedom and of manhood, of holiness and truth;
They sing of every sweetness that makes man’s bosom soft,
They sing of every greatness that bears man’s heart aloft.
Forthwith the courtier circle unlearns the courtly sneer,
The king’s disdainful warriors bow down to God and fear.
Then, as her soul with tender pain and rapture overflows,