 | A book of Bristol sonnets |  |
107
ORPHEUS GLEE SOCIETY.
COLSTON HALL.
Well may thy surly-coloured pipes be still!How can those lips, as livid pale as Death,
Be sweet as life for colour, when their breath
Has flown for aye? How can a player's skill
Advantage ought, when a more potent will—
The frosts that jealousy awakenth—
Are chilling those ten thousand veins beneath,
And thy vast lungs with icy numbness fill?
With passions of a god, an angel's voice,
A heart as various as the rushing wind,
Such ill-attempered influence cannot bind
With human littleness thy loftier choice!
Nay, generous giant, thou art listening
With us, who wonder while these mortals sing!
| A book of Bristol sonnets | |