To--------, Singing

NAY, sing no more—no more—my soul is lost,
Now swallowed up in most unfathoined caves
Of wondrous song, and now upon the waves
Of melody borne onward, and uptossed,
Whither I know not, till all grosser things
Swim from around me, and I soar afar,
Or rapt or sorrowful, on viewless wings,
Woven of beams caught from some tremulous star
In the blue infinite. Nay, sing no more,
But let the strain pass gradual away;
For while thou singest, I of needs must soar,
And dwell with thy sweet voice; and never may
One who has dwelt with angels, he again
The fit companion of most selfish men.