Volume 7 — Sonnet On "Le Recit D'une Soeur," By Mrs. Augustus Craven.

Whence is the music? Minstrel see we none; Yet, soft as waves that, surge succeeding surge, Roll forward—now subside—anon emerge— Upheaved in glory o'er a setting sun, Those beatific harmonies sweep on: O'er earth they sweep from utmost verge to verge, Triumphant Hymeneal, Hymn, and Dirge, Blending in everlasting unison. Whence is the music? Stranger! These were they That, great in love, by love unvanquished proved: These were true lovers, for in God they loved: With God these spirits rest in endless day. Yet still, for love's behoof, on wings outspread Float on o'er earth betwixt the angels and the dead. Aubrey de Vere.