AS WE READ BURNS

Who is speaking? Who has spoken?

Whose voice ceasing thus has broken

The sweet pathos of our dreams?

Sweetest bard of sweetest themes,

Pouring in each poet-heart

Some rare essence of your art

Till it seems your singing lip

Kisses every pencil tip!

Far across the unknown lands —

Reach of heavenly isle and sea —

How we long to touch the hands

You outhold so lovingly!