When music sounds,
all that I was I am
I give my Spirit to the flood of song
O even wings of music, bear my soul!
Bathe me in pure delight, and make me strong.
Music I heard with you
was more than music,
I seem to hear those songs again
waking thoughts, that have long slept
and make me smooth as balm and oil again.
My raptured spirit soars on high,
I keep such music in my brain
in faded eyes, that have long wept
a song of home, a deep celestial strain
which now I hear soaring
above my own breath,
and the round notes
flutter and tap, about the room
but the music is lost
and the words are gone;
and so the song breaks off, and I’m alone.