No words of wondrous power are mine, no spells to charm the listening throng. But
once within the silent void, from out the darkness unalloyed, some power may bear it
to thy feet. To the voluptuous music’s dreamy swell, so full of subtle power, it seemed
to be the voice of passion and of mystery! Then, with God’s seal on heart and brow, we
claim them in immortal power! – such power as that low undertone the listener’s heart
to thrill. From out the buried years, from many a royal tomb, whence neither pomp nor
power could chase the dim, sepulchral gloom. Half of joy and half of woe, veiling such
transcendent power. Through the stormy midnight hour, fast held in its spell of power.
Two starry eyes darkly bright, as midnight skies, prophetic of the power sure to be thy
woman’s dower. Woe that a form so dear as thine, love had no power to shield or save.
Dorr, Julia C. R. Dorr’s Poems. Philadelphia: J. P. Lippincott & Co., 1872. https://archive.org/details/poems72dorr/page/189/mode/1up?q=power