[Poems by Botta in] Memoirs of Anne Charlotte Lynch Botta written by her friends with selections from her correspondence and from her writings in prose and poetry |
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![]() | [Poems by Botta in] Memoirs of Anne Charlotte Lynch Botta written by her friends | ![]() |
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ACCORDANCE.
He who with bold and skilful hand sweeps o'erThe organ-keys of some cathedral pile,
Flooding with music, vault, and nave, and aisle,
Though on his ear falls but a thunderous roar.
In the composer's lofty motive free,
Knows well that all that temple, vast and dim,
Thrills to its base with anthem, psalm, and hymn,
True to the changeless laws of harmony.
So he who on these clanging chords of life,
With firm, sweet touch plays the Great Master's score,
Of truth, and love, and duty, evermore,
Knows, too, that far beyond this roar and strife,
Though he may never hear, in the true time,
These notes must all accord in symphonies sublime.
![]() | [Poems by Botta in] Memoirs of Anne Charlotte Lynch Botta written by her friends | ![]() |