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a web of many textures

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O, sheet of standard melody sublime!
My ravished ears drink in thy liquid notes, —
A cherished anthem of the ancient time,
That, still unchanging, to far ages floats;
An “old folks' concert” of undoubted age,
That fears no check of innovation's bars,
So perfect that no Vandal dare engage
To mend the song coëval with the stars! —
In hearing of thy solemn monotone,
The universe with pulseless awe might list,
Whilst I, struck dumb, hark to its strains alone,
And feel my wandering soul among the mist,
That, like an echo of the chorus grand,
Quavers responsive to the thrilling land.


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