Nothing That Is Can Pause

The Moon Is Hidden Behind A Cloud... On The Leaves Is A Sound Of Falling Rain... No Other Sounds Than These I Hear; The Hour Of Midnight Must Be Near... So Many Ghosts, And Forms Of Fright, Have Started From Their Graves To-night, They Have Driven Sleep From Mine Eyes Away: I Will Go Down To The Chapel And Pray.

O Music! Language Of The Soul, Of Love, Of God To Man; Bright Beam From Heaven Thrilling, That Lightens Sorrow's Weight.

O Weary Hearts! O Slumbering Eyes! O Drooping Souls, Whose Destinies Are Fraught With Fear And Pain, Ye Shall Be Loved Again.

The Nile, Forever New And Old, Among The Living And The Dead, Its Mighty, Mystic Stream Has Rolled.

It Is Foolish To Pretend That One Is Fully Recovered From A Disappointed Passion. Such Wounds Always Leave A Scar.