A Voice
Your voice, your voice; the voice I loved so well!
Best friend of mine, have you come back once more
Through utter void, from Heaven's own height to tell
What oft you told me with your tongue and pen?
On senseless disk that whirls before my eyes,
Are lines too swift, too infinitely small
For me to trace, yet deep within them lies
Your echoing tones that cannot die at all.
My glorious One, from what remotest bound,
Beyond this room, and Time's lamenting toll,
Have you returned? What country have you found.
That grants brief passport to your faithful soul?
Your voice, your voice; the voice I loved so well!
Best friend of mine, have you come back once more
Through utter void, from Heaven's own height to tell
What oft you told me with your tongue and pen?
On senseless disk that whirls before my eyes,
Are lines too swift, too infinitely small
For me to trace, yet deep within them lies
Your echoing tones that cannot die at all.
My glorious One, from what remotest bound,
Beyond this room, and Time's lamenting toll,
Have you returned? What country have you found.
That grants brief passport to your faithful soul?
Best friend of mine, have you come back once more
Through utter void, from Heaven's own height to tell
What oft you told me with your tongue and pen?
On senseless disk that whirls before my eyes,
Are lines too swift, too infinitely small
For me to trace, yet deep within them lies
Your echoing tones that cannot die at all.
My glorious One, from what remotest bound,
Beyond this room, and Time's lamenting toll,
Have you returned? What country have you found.
That grants brief passport to your faithful soul?
Your voice, your voice; the voice I loved so well!
Best friend of mine, have you come back once more
Through utter void, from Heaven's own height to tell
What oft you told me with your tongue and pen?
On senseless disk that whirls before my eyes,
Are lines too swift, too infinitely small
For me to trace, yet deep within them lies
Your echoing tones that cannot die at all.
My glorious One, from what remotest bound,
Beyond this room, and Time's lamenting toll,
Have you returned? What country have you found.
That grants brief passport to your faithful soul?
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