ONLY LISTEN.
On the spirit's ear there linger,
Often linger, like a spell,
Sounds, as if an infant's finger
Touched a silver bell:
Now the strains are slow and sad,
Now more cheerful;
As the heart is grieved or glad,
Hoping or fearful.
Only listen!
Often linger, like a spell,
Sounds, as if an infant's finger
Touched a silver bell:
Now the strains are slow and sad,
Now more cheerful;
As the heart is grieved or glad,
Hoping or fearful.
Only listen!
Only listen!—they are speaking,
Voices speaking sweet and low;
Sweet as perfumed breath of summer.
Tuneful as the brooklet's flow:
When a look unkind is given,
When an angry word is said;
Hark! they whisper—patience, pardon,
Bend the knee, and bow the head.
Only listen!
Voices speaking sweet and low;
Sweet as perfumed breath of summer.
Tuneful as the brooklet's flow:
When a look unkind is given,
When an angry word is said;
Hark! they whisper—patience, pardon,
Bend the knee, and bow the head.
Only listen!
