Memorials of a Happy Time: The Meeting

Tell me, ye Winds and Waves! what power compels
Souls far apart to be together brought,
That they may love each other, — spirits taught

To stoop and listen by Truth's ancient wells;
Guiding their lives with the calm motion caught
From their pure earthborn murmurings, the swells
Of whose soft falling streams go chiming on,
Heard best by hearts that travel there alone!
One have I met, so meek a soul, that dwells
In his own lowly spirit's cloistered cells:
Him by that ancient mountain-rill I found,
Touched mid the heedless throng with holiest spells,
Striving to catch the stream's low thrilling sound,
Where in a savage place it runneth underground.