Ye voices, that arose After the Evening's close, And whispered to my restless heart repose! Go, breathe it in the ear Of all who doubt and fear, And say to them, "Be of good cheer!" Ye sounds, so low and calm, That in the groves of balm Seemed to me like an angel's psalm! Go, mingle yet once more With the perpetual roar Of the pine forest dark and hoar! Tongues of the dead, not lost But speaking from deaths frost, Like fiery tongues at Pentecost! Glimmer, as funeral lamps, Amid the chills and darn ps Of the vast plain where Death encamps!