A bird of song, far soaring to its home,
Over the sea-waves cleaves with tireless wing
The cloudless blue; but, swiftly gathering,
A storm breaks up the crystal into foam
That dashes mountain-high ’gainst Heaven’s dome
Now darkened. Down the aerial harpies fling
The sweet-voiced minstrel and sad surges sing
The dirge of death with sorrow burdensome.
O Heart of Hearts! high-beating o’er the world
From whom fell sweetest song that unto man
Told love and life, since life and love began;
Like some lone bird thou wert by Nature hurled
Into the restless jaws of death’s devouring sea
With still a Song of Songs to bear thee company.