Classic Poem

I call thee! o'er the distance sounds my voice.
Art thou asleep? then hearken through a dream:
Or art thou waking? then let music seem
To reach and stir thee; in its power rejoice.
Where'er thou art I send for thee: — a gleam
Of sudden sunshine is upon the waves
Of my strong singing, and it crowns the graves
Of buried hopes with one triumphant beam.

The past has vanished: with me face the years
That shall be to thee one triumphant crown;
Wipe the last lingering trace of lonely tears;
The wreath that I have won thee I lay down.
I call thee! Listen — let thy happy eyes
Flash with the radiance of the new-born skies.