VIII.
Sweet notes, to all but him unspoken,1
Attuned to bliss a poet’s thought ;2
He grasp’d the lyre, the strings were broken,3
And silence hid the strain he sought.4
A longing heart would fain have given5
A nobler life to mortal things ;6
But found that earth will not be heaven,7
Nor lyres resound without the strings.8