Comes spell-like on the heart whene'er 'tis heard,
As if the spirit from that moment were
Bound with a curse to be dissevered ne'er.
It lingers on the ear, as if 'twould be
Still sounding, until slow Eternity
Came stealing o'er existence ; and there seems
An omen in its echo, as in dreams.
The trusting maiden fondly seeks a sign
Her hope's mysterious history to divine.
Ah! there's a mournful, a prophetic spell
In the faint fall of early love's farewell.