MUSIC FOR THE DYING

Ye who will help me in my dying pain,

Speak not a word: let all your voices cease.

Let me but hear some soft harmonious strain,

And I shall die at peace.

Music entrances, soothes, and grants relief

From all below by which we are opprest;

I pray you, speak no word unto my grief,

But lull it into rest.

Tired am I of all words, and tired of aught

That may some falsehood from the ear conceal,

Desiring rather sounds which ask no thought,

Which I need only feel:

A melody in whose delicious streams

The soul may sink, and pass without a breath

From fevered fancies into quiet dreams,

From dreaming into death.