My heart is tuned to sorrow, and the strings 
Vibrate most readily to minor chords, 
Searching and sad; my mind is stuffed with words 
Which voice the passion and the ache of things: 
Illusions beating with their baffled wings 
Against the walls of circumstance, and hoards 
Of torn desires, broken joys; records 
Of all a bruised life's maimed imaginings. 
Now you are come! You tremble like a star 
Poised where, behind earth's rim, the sun has set. 
Your voice has sung across my heart, but numb 
And mute, I have no tones to answer. Far 
Within I kneel before you, speechless yet, 
And life ablaze with beauty, I am dumb.