"Music, the language, the atmosphere of the Soul."

    FLY back where Melodies like lilies grow, My weary heart is bending low；

    Fly higher yet to joyful¹ realms above, Where holy Angels dwell in love.

    Fly higher still and hear the Angel throng² And bring to me their Glory-song：

    Ah Music, thou and I above the World May dwell where heaven with shining song is pearled！

    While Sun and Moon and all the planets roll I'll love thee, Music, language of my soul！

    Music-lark from on high, song that doth fly, Spark of the sky！