Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 41 1834.pdf/11



Oh! judge in thoughtful tenderness of those Who, richly dower'd for life, are call'd to die Ere the soul's flame through storms hath won repose In Truth's pure ether, unperturb’d and high. Let their mind's relics claim a trustful sigh! Deem them but sad sweet fragments of a strain, First notes of some yet struggling harmony, By the strong rush, the crowding joy and pain Of many inspirations met, and held From its true sphere. Oh! soon it might have swell'd Majestically forth!—Nor doubt that He, Whose touch mysterious may on earth dissolve Those links of music, elsewhere will evolve Their grand consummate hymn, from passion-gusts made free.