Henry Ellison (1811–1880)

THE MUSIC of the days which are to come

Doth haunt me ever, and my footsteps move

In time unto it,—paces of deep love

And faith unchangeable! I hear the hum

Of mighty workings, and cannot be dumb.

To the grand concert of the spheres above.

Mankind moves on, vain omens to disprove,

While overhead, and in the vanward, some

Prophetic soul, lark-like, doth soar and sing.

A few poor snatches of that music here,

My fellow-men, I, as a pledge, would bring,—

The music at my heart still answering clear,

Which tells me that there must be yet some string

Untouched, which God intended Man to hear.