Tennyson

From the misty shores of midnight, touched with splendors of the moon, To the singing tides of heaven, and the light more clear than noon, Passed a soul that grew to music till it was with God in tune. Brother of the greatest poets, true to nature, true to art; Lover of Immortal Love, uplifter of the human heart,— Who shall cheer us with high music, who shall sing, if thou depart? Silence here—for love is silent, gazing on the lessening sail; Silence here—for grief is voiceless when the mighty minstrels fail; Silence here—but, far beyond us, many voices crying, Hail!

Collection: 
English
Henry Van Dyke

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