 | The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder |  |
THE ANGER OF BEETHOVEN
This night the enchanting musicians rendered a trio of Beethoven—Light and lovely, or solemn, as in a Tuscan tower
The walls with gracious tapestries gleam, and the deep-cut windows
Give on landscapes gigantic, framing the four-square world—
When sudden the music turned to anger, as nature's murmur
Sometimes to anger turns, speaking, in voice infuriate,
Cruel, quick, implacable; inhuman, savage, resistless—
And I thought of that sensitive spirit flinging back in scorn tempestuous
And in art supreme, immortal, the infamous arrows of fortune.
| The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | |