Page:Songs of the Affections.pdf/251

Rh

And strange, though sweet, as 'midst our weeping skies Some half-remember'd strain of paradise Might sadly sound.

Hast thou been answer'd? thou, that from the night And from the voices of the tempest's might, And from the past, Wert seeking still some oracle's reply, To pour the secrets of man's destiny Forth on the blast!

Hast thou been answer'd?—thou, that through the gloom, And shadow, and stern silence of the tomb, A cry didst send, So passionate and deep? to pierce, to move, To win back token of unburied love From buried friend!