I had a Message to send her,To her whom my soul loved best;But I had my task to finish.And she was gone home to rest.
To rest in the far bright heaven:Oh,so far away from here,It was vain to speak to my darling,For I knew she could not hear!
I had a message to send her.So tender,and true,and sweet,I longed for an Angel to bear it,And lay it down at her feet.
I placed it,one summer evening,On a Cloudlet's fleecy breast;But it faded in golden splendour,And died in the crimson west.
I gave it the Lark next morning,And I watched it soar and soar;But its pinions grew faint and weary,And it fluttered to earth once more.
To the heart of a Rose I told it;And the perfume,sweet and rare,Growing faint on the blue bright ether,Was lost in the balmy air.
I laid it upon a Censer,And I saw the incense rise;But its clouds of rolling silver Could not reach the far blue skies.
I cried,in my passionate longing:-"Has the earth no Angel-friend Who will carry my love the message That my heart desires to send?"
Then I heard a strain of music,So mighty,so pure,so clear,That my very sorrow was silent,And my heart stood still to hear.
And I felt,in my soul's deep yearning,At last the sure answer stir:-"The music will go up to Heaven,And carry my thought to her."
It rose in harmonious rushing Of mingled voices and strings.And I tenderly laid my message On the Music's outspread wings.
I heard it float farther and farther,In sound more perfect than speech;Farther than sight can follow.Farther than soul can reach.
And I know that at last my message Has passed through the golden gate:So my heart is no longer restless,And I am content to wait.
