THERE come dull days in love's clear atmosphere, br When clouds and doubt obscure the wide expanse. br The woods are still; no songs of birds entrance; br No sunlight falls, and desolate and drear, br As if harmonious with the lurking fear br 5 br Which sucks love's peace, the leaden waves that glance br From rock-bound coast the general gloom enhance; br And spectral winds are wailing far and near. br When suddenly, and oft in darkest hour, br I hear some strain of music, or some voice, br 10 br Or some of thy drear writing chance I see, br When, lo! The spell is broken, and the power br Of darkness, earth, and sea, and sky rejoice, br And all my being thrills with songs of thee.