I passed beside the haunted hill
When all the mushroom caps were white.
I heard a music on the air -
It filled each crevice of the night!
It filled each crevice of the night,
And played the wandering wind upon;
More sweet that singing Israfel.
It called to me and then was gone.
It called to me, and then was gone!
I waited by the brown reeds, stark.
There only was the dying moon --
And the wind blowing in the dark --
And the wind blowing in the dark,
And tears upon my lids like rain.
God help me! I can joy no more
Until I hear those sounds again!
First published in The Australasian, 21 October 1922
