 | Mundi et Cordis |  |
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LXIII. “THE CHORD-OF-THE-DOMINANT.”
“‘O, do!’ and ‘Will you not?’ and such sweet phrases,So utter'd, strike a chord of my rapt soul,
Which, like the chord-o'-the-dominant, must be
At once resolved into firm repose;
Or else it pants and writhes through all the mazes
Of violated music painfully,
And no calm rest of consummation knows
In haven of contented harmony.
O, cunning of a master-hand control!—
‘O, do!’ and ‘Will you not?’ make perfect tune
In me, of love thy breathing instrument;
The music of thy playing eloquent!
The stricken with the striker doth agree,
And all the intricate notes into each other swoon!”
| Mundi et Cordis | |