 | Poems and dramas of George Cabot Lodge |  |
83
X
ON AN ÆOLIAN HARP
Lure of the night's dædalian sea-born breath,Wild as the heart's uncomprehended dole,
Strange as the grieving of a mighty soul
Touched with the lyric woe of life and death.
Phraser of world-wide monotones that toll
Like far enormous bells from sky to sky,
Voice of the vaster solitudes that lie
With life's solution past the mind's control.
The golden eyes of long-forgotten days,
The dolorous memory of simple things,
Sadden thy lapsing chords:—the present pays
The past's arrears of sorrow, and they seem
To wake a sense, among thy weeping strings,
Of other lives, like some unceasing dream.
| Poems and dramas of George Cabot Lodge | |