Or, art thou, breathing from a holier clime,
A voice, that calleth tremulously low;
To lure the enraptured soul to things divine,
Far from deluding joys it meets below?
Thou com’st with inspiration ’mid thy sighing,
A melody, unearthly and unknown;
A mingled strain, that on the night-breeze dying,
Wakens the heart-strings to thy thrilling tone.
Recalling wanderings of the spirit-past,
The wayward visions of our fleeting youth;