Whispers of Heavenly Death

WHISPERS of heavenly death, murmur’d I hear;   
Labial gossip of night—sibilant chorals;   
Footsteps gently ascending—mystical breezes, wafted soft and low;   
Ripples of unseen rivers—tides of a current, flowing, forever flowing;   
(Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?)     
   
I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses;   
Mournfully, slowly they roll, silently swelling and
mixing;   
With, at times, a half-dimm’d, sadden’d, far-off star,   
Appearing and disappearing.   
   (Some parturition, rather—some solemn, immortal birth:   
On the frontiers, to eyes impenetrable,   
Some Soul is passing over.)