Whispers of heavenly death, murmur'd I hear;
Labial gossip of night - sibilant chorals;
Footsteps gently ascending - mystical breezes, wafted soft and low;
Ripples of unseen rivers - tides of a current, flowing, forever flowing;
(Or is it the plashing of tears?
the measureless waters of human tears?)
I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses;
Mournfully, slowly they roll,
silently swelling and mixing;
With, at times, a half-dimm'd,
sadden'd, far-off star,
Appearing and disappearing.
(Some parturition, rather--some solemn, immortal birth:
On the frontiers, to eyes impenetrable,
Some Soul is passing over.)