Hearing her sing in some dim place remote I marvelled at the beauty of each word, As one who hears the lyric of a bird With April's gladness bubbling in its throat. And while I listened so, one ringing note Divinely sweet above the rest I heard, And in my heart its answering echo stirred Setting a thousand memories afloat. Then I whose lips the winter's cold had sealed Sought once again to fashion into rhyme The prisoned rapture of my silence long, And, one by one, I felt the fetters yield Until the world about me grew sublime Touched by the joy of love's immortal song. |