A song I never heard
I must rehearse,
Counting each hour a word,
Counting each day a verse.
Not of my proper choice
Raise I my voice,
While others — fierce and strong —
Raise theirs to drown my song.
Must I then sing aloud,
Faint as a bird,
And, like a bird, be proud
To sing — to sing unheard?
Weary and very weak,
Shall I then seek
A hearing, idiot-wise,
From the unhearing skies?
Drowning my whispered dreams,
Great voices cry.
They sing their songs, it seems,
With better heart than I.
Hush — I can hear Death sing —
“Here is my sting.”
And the Grave echo — “See,
Here is my victory”
To-night the heavens bend
A little nearer.
The singer is my friend,
And I — at last — the hearer.
No more to sing alone
A song unknown,—
Hush — very tense and thin,
The dawn-like notes begin.