 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
III.
MUSIC.
I love to sit here in the Music Hall,And hear the choruses of mighty song
Arise and swell, and pour themselves along,
In fancied tracery upon the wall;
And rapture clothes the melody with form,—
A lofty mountain of stupendous sound,
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And gives them utterance with harmonious storm;
Raising its height far up the fretted arch,
A glittering circlet round its lofty head,
From whence effulgent rays below are shed,
To aid my vision in its upward march.
The chorus stops,—the mountain is a plain,—
The circlet naught but plain gas-lights again.
| Rhymes with reason and without | |