My heart is tuned to sorrow, and the strings
  Vibrate most readily to minor chords,
  Searching and sad; my mind is stuffed with words
Which voice the passion and the ache of things:
Illusions beating with their baffled wings
  Against the walls of circumstance, and hoards
  Of torn desires, broken joys; records
Of all a bruised life's maimed imaginings.
  Now you are come!  You tremble like a star
Poised where, behind earth's rim, the sun has set.
    Your voice has sung across my heart, but numb
  And mute, I have no tones to answer.  Far
Within I kneel before you, speechless yet,
    And life ablaze with beauty, I am dumb.

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