I would give worlds, though we were apart, though oceans rolled between us, to know the hour in which thy gaze was lifted to the stars,--in which thy heart poured itself in prayer.

They tell me thou art more beautiful than the marble images that are fairer than all human forms; but I have never dared to gaze steadfastly on thy face, that memory might compare thee with the rest.

Only thine eyes and thy soft, calm smile haunt me; as when I look upon the moon, all that passes into my heart is her silent light.
....
"Often, when the air is calm, I have thought that I hear the strains of my father's music; often, though long stilled in the grave, have they waked me from the dreams of the solemn night.

Methinks, ere thou comest to me that I hear them herald thy approach.

Methinks I hear them wail and moan, when I sink back into myself on seeing thee depart.