I once heard an angel by night in the sky
Singing softly a song to a deep golden lute;
The pole-star, the seven little planets and I
To the song that he sang, listened mute,

For the song that he sang was so strange and so sweet,
And so tender the tones of his lute's golden strings
That the seraphs of heaven sat hush'd at his feet
And folded their heads in their wings.

And the song that he sang to the seraphs up there
Is called 'Love'! But the words ... I had heard them elsewhere.

* * * * *

For when I was last in the nethermost Hell,
On a rock 'mid the sulphurous surges I heard
A pale spirit sing to a wild hollow shell;
And his song was the same, every word,

And so sad was his singing, all Hell to the sound
Moaned, and wailing, complained like a monster in pain
While the fiends hovered near o'er the dismal profound
With their black wings weighed down by the strain;

And the song that was sung to the Lost Ones down there
Is called 'Love'! But the spirit that sang was Despair!