Radiant, as if a saint, or Christ
Himself had blessed his sight.
For in the voices one sweet voice
Swam, like a spirit’s, in his ears:
He could not speak, or move, or breathe;
While slowly trickling tears
Ran down his cheeks, as, louder still,
The swan-voiced organ breathed its knell,
And on its cloudy height of song
Paused, trembled, moaned and fell.