Page:Poetical Remains.pdf/63

Rh

Oh! judge in thoughtful tenderness of those, Who, richly dowered for life, are called to die, Ere the soul's flame, through storms, hath won repose In truth's divinest ether, still and high! Let their mind's riches 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 swelled 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!