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Those notes once more!—they bear my soul away, They lend the wings of morning to its flight; No earthly passion in th' exulting lay, Whispers one tone to win me from that height.

All is of Heaven!—Yet wherefore to mine eye Gush the vain tears unbidden from their source? Ev'n while the waves of that strong harmony Roll with my spirit on their sounding course!

Wherefore must rapture its full heart reveal Thus by the burst of sorrow's token-shower? —Oh! is it not, that humbly we may feel Our nature's limit in its proudest hour?