SPEAK low to me, my Saviour,
low and sweet
From out the hallelujahs,
sweet and low
Lest I should fear and fall,
and miss Thee so
Who art not missed by any that entreat.
Speak to mo as to Mary at thy feet !
And if no precious gums my hands bestow,
Let my tears drop like amber while I go
In reach of thy divinest voice complete
In humanest affection -- thus, in sooth,
To lose the sense of losing. As a child,
Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore
Is sung to in its stead by mother's mouth
Till,
sinking on her breast,
love-reconciled,
He sleeps the faster that he wept before.
