Speak, O speak, my angel fair,
Is there sadness everywhere—
Folly where the flower feedeth
Rapids where the river leadeth
To delight?

Is there, is there anything
An eternal joy can bring—
What is real and what but seemeth
Like a dream a dreamer dreameth
Thru the night?

Can there be, Angel of Love
Can there be bright homes above—
What is Life—and when it endeth
What is Death—why it descendeth
I implore?

Tell me, Angel, can it be
That thy hand is leading me—
Tell me, are these seraphs singing
Up in heaven, gladness bringing
Evermore?

Table of Contents