Page:Songs of the Affections.pdf/24

16

And I have heard celestial fountains burst!— What here shall quench it? Dost thou not rejoice, When the spring sends forth an awakening voice Through the young woods?—Thou dost!—And in that birth Of early leaves, and flowers, and songs of mirth, Thousands, like thee, find gladness!—Couldst thou know How every breeze then summons me to go! How all the light of love and beauty shed By those rich hours, but woos me to the Dead! The only beautiful that change no more, The only loved!—the dwellers on the shore Of spring fulfill'd!—The Dead!—whom call we so? They that breathe purer air, that feel, that know Things wrapt from us!—Away!—within me pent, That which is barr'd from its own element Still droops or struggles!—But the day will come— Over the deep the free bird finds its home,