1. I Pant For The Music Which Is Divine, My Heart In Its Thirst Is A Dying Flower; Pour Forth The Sound Like Enchanted Wine, Loosen The Notes In A Silver Shower; Like A Herbless Plain, For The Gentle Rain, I Gasp, I Faint, Till They Wake Again. 2. Let Me Drink Of The Spirit Of That Sweet Sound, More, Oh More, - I Am Thirsting Yet; It Loosens The Serpent Which Care Has Bound Upon My Heart To Stifle It; The Dissolving Strain, Through Every Vein, Passes Into My Heart And Brain. 3. As The Scent Of A Violet Withered Up, Which Grew By The Brink Of A Silver Lake, When The Hot Noon Has Drained Its Dewy Cup, And Mist There Was None Its Thirst To Slake - And The Violet Lay Dead While The Odour Flew On The Wings Of The Wind O'Er The Waters Blue - 4. As One Who Drinks From A Charmed Cup Of Foaming, And Sparkling, And Murmuring Wine, Whom, A Mighty Enchantress Filling Up, Invites To Love With Her Kiss Divine...