 | Song in September |  |
78
THE OLD PIANO
The old piano must not go
As rubbish to an upper-room,
Where crippled sofas, tables, chairs
With dust and spiders stand in gloom.
Beautiful maids and lordly lads
And grandsires grey together give
A treasure to the instrument,
A lavender that needs must live.
As rubbish to an upper-room,
Where crippled sofas, tables, chairs
With dust and spiders stand in gloom.
Beautiful maids and lordly lads
And grandsires grey together give
A treasure to the instrument,
A lavender that needs must live.
To boys and girls the instrument
Has stood for misery and fears;
And even now the ivory shows
The smudges made of dirt and tears.
While the lank spinster, full of starch,
On knuckles rapped with frequent force,
The children past the quavers looked
To bears and Indians in the gorse.
Has stood for misery and fears;
And even now the ivory shows
The smudges made of dirt and tears.
While the lank spinster, full of starch,
On knuckles rapped with frequent force,
The children past the quavers looked
To bears and Indians in the gorse.
79
The lad of twenty made the tramp
Of regiments pass along the keys;
He looked across the world and saw
The blood of England stain the leas:
Sudden the scarlet horsemen poured
In thousands down the ivory lane,
The flag in front, and shouting hurled
The wild-eyed foe across the plain.
Of regiments pass along the keys;
He looked across the world and saw
The blood of England stain the leas:
Sudden the scarlet horsemen poured
In thousands down the ivory lane,
The flag in front, and shouting hurled
The wild-eyed foe across the plain.
The old piano knew the sweet
Bewildering of the maid's unrest
Before with tears and sighs she found
An Eden on her mother's breast.
'Twas in a summerhouse of sound
She trembled to the touch of bliss,
And felt her heart of pearbloom take
The arrow of her lover's kiss.
Bewildering of the maid's unrest
Before with tears and sighs she found
An Eden on her mother's breast.
'Twas in a summerhouse of sound
She trembled to the touch of bliss,
And felt her heart of pearbloom take
The arrow of her lover's kiss.
The woman never blessed to bend
Above a cradle sweetly filled
Unrobed in melody the babes
That flocked the keyboard as she willed:
Lullabies wooed to perfect sleep
The children called from fairyland,
As patiently she covered up
The little chest, the little hand.
Above a cradle sweetly filled
Unrobed in melody the babes
That flocked the keyboard as she willed:
Lullabies wooed to perfect sleep
The children called from fairyland,
80
The little chest, the little hand.
At evenfall a bride has played
A son or daughter on the notes,
And stitched in cadences a stock
Of pinafores and tiny coats;
Has in the treble set a maid,
And in the alto put a boy,
With evening pauses, lark-like trills,
And octaves bursting out of joy.
A son or daughter on the notes,
And stitched in cadences a stock
Of pinafores and tiny coats;
Has in the treble set a maid,
And in the alto put a boy,
With evening pauses, lark-like trills,
And octaves bursting out of joy.
The old piano must not go
As rubbish to an upper-room,
Where crippled sofas, tables, chairs
With dust and spiders stand in gloom:
Surely it joins of infancy
And age the sleep-defended poles,
This rosewood colony of shapes
Too fragile even to be souls.
As rubbish to an upper-room,
Where crippled sofas, tables, chairs
With dust and spiders stand in gloom:
Surely it joins of infancy
And age the sleep-defended poles,
This rosewood colony of shapes
Too fragile even to be souls.
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