Sonnets from the Portuguese: XLI

I thank all who have loved me in their hearts,With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to allWho paused a little near the prison-wallTo hear my music in its louder partsEre they went onward, each one to the mart'sOr temple's occupation, beyond call.But thou, who, in my voice's sink and fallWhen the sob took it, thy divinest Art'sOwn instrument didst drop down at thy footTo harken what I said between my tears, . . .Instruct me how to thank thee! Oh, to shootMy soul's full meaning into future years,That they should lend it utterance, and saluteLove that endures, from Life that disappears!