I Heard You, Solemn-sweet Pipes of the Organ.

I HEARD you, solemn-sweet pipes of the organ, as last Sunday morn I pass’d the

church;

Winds of autumn!—as I walk’d the woods at dusk, I heard your long-stretch’d

sighs, up above, so mournful;

I heard the perfect Italian tenor, singing at the opera—I heard the soprano in the

midst of the quartet singing;

... Heart of my love!—you too I heard, murmuring low, through one of the wrists

around my head;

Heard the pulse of you, when all was still, ringing little bells last night under my

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