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When sudden, as sent from on high, Music came slowly sweeping by. It was not harp, it was not song, Nor aught that might to earth belong! The birds sang not, the leaves were still, Silence was sleeping on the rill; But with a deep and solemn sound The viewless music swept around. Oh never yet was such a tone To hand or lip of mortal known! It was as if a hymn were sent From heaven's starry instrument, In joy, such joy as seraphs feel For some pure soul's immortal weal, When that its human task is done, Earth's trials past, and heaven won.