your souls behind you

    turn, gently moved!

    Our voices feel along to find you,

    O lost, beloved!

    trong-marshalled angels,

    they press and pierce:

    Our requiems follo on our evangels,—

    Voice throbs in verse.

    e are but orps left in Eden

    A time ago:

    God gave us golden cups, and we were bidden

    to feed you so.

    But now our righ no cup remaining,

    No o do,

    tic , and staining

    through.

    Most ineradicable stains, for showing

    (Not interfused!)

    t brighe world’s foregoing,

    than shall be used.

    hearken, oh hearken! ye shall hearken surely

    For years and years,

    the noise beside you, dripping coldly, purely,

    Of spirits’ tears.

    to a beautiful denied you,

    Srain your powers.

    Ideal snesses shall over-glide you,

    Resumed from ours.

    In all your music, our patic minor

    Your ears shall cross;

    And all good gifts shall mind you of diviner,

    ith sense of loss.

    e s-languors

    And remes,

    time ye vex t h vain angers,

    Or mock h dreams.

    And wer roaming,

    Deat,

    By the coming,

    t.