There are shadows that compel us,
There are voices that control;
More than substance these can tell us,
Speaking to the human soul.
In the moonlight, when it glistened
On my window, white as snow,
Once I woke and, leaning, listened
To a voice that sang below.
Full of gladness, full of yearning,
Strange with dreamy melody,
Like a bird whose heart is burning,
Wildly sweet it sang to me.
I arose; and by the starlight,
Pale beneath the mystic sky,
I have seen it full of far light,—
My dead joy go singing by.
In the darkness, when the glimmer
Of the storm was on the pane,
I have sat and heard a dimmer
Voice lamenting in the rain.
Full of parting and unspoken
Heartbreak, faint with agony,
Like a bird whose heart is broken,
Sadly low it cried to me.
I arose; and in the darkness
Wan beneath the haunted sky,
I have seen it, cold to starkness,—
My dead love go weeping by.