Only to wake the sighs
Of echo-voices from their sparry cell;
Only to say—O sunshine and blue skies!
O life and love, farewell!"
Thus flow'd the death-chaunt on; while mournfully
Low winds and waves made answer, and the tones
Buried in rocks along the Grecian stream,
Rocks and dim caverns of old Prophecy,
Woke to respond: and all the air was fill'd
With that one sighing sound—"Farewell, Farewell!"
—Fill'd with that sound? high in the calm blue heaven
Ev'n then a Sky-lark hung; soft summer clouds
Were floating round him, all transpierced with light,
And midst that pearly radiance his dark wings
Quiver'd with song:—such free triumphant song,
As if tears were not,—as if breaking hearts
Had not a place below—and thus that strain
Spoke to the Poet's ear exultingly.
