Whither – Oh – whither, in the wandering air

[ZaunköniG]

Whither – Oh – whither, in the wandering air
Fly the sweet notes that ‘twixt the soul and sense
Make blest communion? When and where commence
The self-unfolding sounds, that every where

Expand through silence? seems that never were
A point and instant of that sound’s beginning,
A time when it was not as sweet and winning,
As now it melts amid the soft and rare

And love-sick ether? Gone it is – that tone
Hath pass’d for ever from the middle earth;
Yet not to perish in the music flown –

Ah no! – it hastens to a better birth!
Then joy be with it; - wheresoe’er it be,
To us it leaves a pleasant memory.