God, who with thunders and great voices kept Beneath thy throne, and stars most silver-paced Along the inferior gyres, and open-faced Melodious angels round, canst intercept Music with music, -- yet, at will, has swept All back, all back (said he in Patmos placed,) To fill the heavens with silence of the waste Which lasted half an hour! Lo, I who have wept All day and night, beseech Thee by my tears, And by that dread response of curse and groan Men alternate across these hemispheres, Vouchsafe us such a half-hour's hush alone, In compensation for our stormy years: As heaven has paused from song, let earth from moan! |