 | Last poems of James Russell Lowell |  |
36
ON HEARING A SONATA OF BEETHOVEN'S PLAYED IN THE NEXT ROOM
Unseen Musician, thou art sure to please,For those same notes in happier days I heard
Poured by dear hands that long have never stirred
Yet now again for me delight the keys:
Ah me, to strong illusions such as these
What are Life's solid things? The walls that gird
Our senses, lo, a casual scent or word
Levels, and 't is the soul that hears and sees!
Play on, dear girl, and many be the years
37
And, for thy largess pay a meed of tears
Unto another who, beyond the sea
Of Time and Change, perhaps not sadly hears
A music in this verse undreamed by thee!
Christmas, 1885.
| Last poems of James Russell Lowell | |