Sonnet 20 (Sonnets, 1833)

Whither — Oh— whither, in the wandering air,
Fly the sweet notes that 'twixt the soul and sense
Make blest communion? When and where commence
The self-unfolding sounds, that every where
Expand through silence ? seems that never were
A point and instant of that sound's beginning,
A time when it was not as sweet and winning,
As now it melts amid the soft and rare
And love-sick ether ? Gone it is — that tone
Hath passed for ever from the middle earth ;
Yet not to perish is the music flown —
Ah no — it hastens to a better birth !
Then joy be with it ; — wheresoe'er it be,
To us it leaves a pleasant memory.