I Heard You, Solemn-Sweep Pipes Of The Organ

I HEARD you, solemn-sweet pipes of the organ, as last Sunday morn I
pass’d the church;
Winds of autumn!–as I walk’d the woods at dusk, I heard your long-
stretch’d sighs, up above, so mournful;
I heard the perfect Italian tenor, singing at the opera–I heard the
soprano in the midst of the quartet singing;
… Heart of my love!–you too I heard, murmuring low, through one of
the wrists around my head;
Heard the pulse of you, when all was still, ringing little bells last
night under my ear.