UNFALLEN drops hung on the grass
And dripped from the bright aster's head;
Voiceless did the swallows pass
Above our voiceless dead.

Crickets to the morning air
Sang the season's evening song,
While the sea-birds' dusky lair
Glimmered with their throng.

Nor other sound, save dropping tears,
Until the distant light-house bell
Across the land, across our fears,
In wide vibrations fell,--

Fell surging over driven ships
That wander blind in dreadful seas,
With music out of iron lips
For women on their knees.

Wild tears, restrain your overflow!
Down to the darkest gulfs that be,
Thus the great voice shall ever go
Across life's fateful sea.