Then, when the form is shaped, the poet fills it with the deep emotion of the musician's soul, and then with his own emotion; and close as the air to the earth are the sorrow and exultation of Abt Vogler and Browning to the human heart--sorrow for the vanishing and the failure, exultant joy because what has been is but an image of the infinite beauty they will have in God.

In the joy they do not sorrow for the failure.

It is nothing but an omen of success.

Their soul, greater than the vision, takes up common life with patience and silent hope.

We hear them sigh and strike the chord of C.
This is lyric imagination at work in lyric poetry.