THE VOICE THAT SINGS

The voice that sings across the night

Of long forgotten days and things,

Is there an ear to hear aright

The voice that sings?

It is as when a curfew rings

Melodious in the dying light,

A sound that flies on pulsing wings.

And faded eyes that once were bright

Brim over, as to life it brings

The echo of a dead delight,

The voice that sings.