SPEAK low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet <br />From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low <br />Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so <br />Who art not missed by any that entreat. <br />Speak to mo as to Mary at thy feet ! <br />And if no precious gums my hands bestow, <br />Let my tears drop like amber while I go <br />In reach of thy divinest voice complete <br />In humanest affection -- thus, in sooth, <br />To lose the sense of losing. As a child, <br />Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore <br />Is sung to in its stead by mother's mouth <br />Till, sinking on her breast, love-reconciled, <br />He sleeps the faster that he wept before.<br /><br />Elizabeth Barrett Browning<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/comfort/
