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56
TO A LOST MELODY.
Amid a different wilder wilderness
—In crowds that throng and press,
Revive thy blessed cadences forgotten
In some soul new-begotten?
Oh, wilt thou ever tire of thy long rest
On nature's silent breast?
And wilt thou leave thy rainbow showers, to bear
A part in human care?
—Forsake thy boundless silence to make choice
Of some pathetic voice?
—Forsake thy stars, thy suns, thy moons, thy skies,
For man's desiring sighs?
Ah, not for mine, who sit with empty ears,
Dreaming of thee, to tears.
