VISION AND ECHO

I have seen that which sweeter is

Than happy dreams come true.

I have heard that which echo is

Of speech past all I ever knew.

Vision and echo, come again,

Nor let me grieve in easeless pain!

It was a hill I saw, that rose

Like smoke over the street,

Whose greening rampires were upreared

Suddenly almost at my feet;

And tall trees nodded tremblingly

Making the plain day visionary.

But ah, the song, the song I heard

And grieve to hear no more!

It was not angel-voice, nor child's

Singing alone and happy, nor

Note of the wise prophetic thrush

As lonely in the leafless bush.

It was not these, and yet I knew

That song; but now, alas,

My unpurged ears prove all too gross

To keep the nameless air that was

And is not; and my eyes forget

The vision that I follow yet.

Yet though forgetful I did see.

And heard, but cannot tell,

And on my forehead felt an air

Unearthly, on my heart a spell.

I have seen that which deathless is,

And heard — what I for ever miss!