Classic Poem

Three days—three nights—with wondering ear
A spiritual voice I heard.
It caroled sweet, it caroled clear,
A strange unearthly Word.

Oh, solemn mirth! Oh, laughter deep!
It seemed a voice in my own breast.
Three days—three nights—it broke my sleep
And triumphed without any rest.

Passionate utterance! Speech divine!
It talked! It murmured! All night long
That mystic tenderness spoke on,
And pierced me with its Heavenly song.

Three days—three nights—I heard it sing,
The voice of that Interior Dove.
'Twas Love itself embraced my heart
And broke its own for very Love.

It seemed Myself—but yet it seemed
Another creature more divine.
Oh, bubbling rapture! Hidden spring!
Mysterious mirth more deep than mine.

Three days! Three nights! With wondering ear
That spiritual voice I heard.
I knew it was my Lord who sent
Into my heart His Love's own Bird.

I slept, I waked in tenderest peace,
Three days—three nights—it failed me never.
Love's very Self in music spoke
I thought that it would sing forever.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Never again! No, never again
Has that sweet Bird returned to me.
But I am sealed unto the Lord
Knowing such things can be.