But That One Air For All That Throng! And Yet How Wondrously The Magic Strain Went Through Those Thousand Hearts! I Saw Young Eyes, That Knew Only The Fairest Sights, Grow Dim And Wet, While Eyes Long Fed On Visions Of Regret Beheld Life'S Rose, Upspringing From Its Rue; For Some, The Night-Wind In Thy Music Blew, For Some, The Spring'S Celestial Clarinet! And Each Heart Knew Its Own : The Poet Heard. Ravished, The Song His Lips Could Never Free; The Girl, Her Lover'S Swift, Impassioned Word; The Mother Thought, "O Little, Buried Face!" And One, Through Veil Of Doubt And Agony, Saw Christ, Alone In The Dim Garden-Place!