THE VOICE THAT SINGS

The voice that sings across the night Of long forgotten days and things, Is there an ear to hear aright The voice that sings?

It is as when a curfew rings Melodious in the dying light, A sound that flies on pulsing wings.

And faded eyes that once were bright Brim over, as to life it brings The echo of a dead delight, The voice that sings.