text:  _They_ hear not--_they_ feel not excepting by an illusion of our own moved imaginations which fill up chasms of awful impassable separation; but _we_ hear--_we_ feel; and the echo of the acclaim which hills and skies have this day repeated we can carry home in our hearts where it shall settle down into the composure of love and pity and admiration and gratitude felt to be due for ever to our great poet's shade