Ere I bethought me and smiled

 As the truth flashed o’er me.

 Of course, it was only his hand

 Freeing the bass

 Of his old Amati, grand

 In the silence’ face.

 Rummaging up and down,

 From string to string,

 Bidding the discords drown,

 The harmonies spring,

 Where tides and tide-winds rove

 Far out from land,

 On the ocean of music a-move

 At the will of his hand.

 Sobbing and grieving now,

 Now glad as a bird,

 Thou, thou, thou

 Of the joys unheard,

 Luminous radiant sea

 Of the sounds and time,

 Prev. P 57/99 next