Love-Sonnets by Evelyn Douglas [i.e. J. E. Barlas] |
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| XXX. |
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| XL. |
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| XLII. | XLII.
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| XLVII. |
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| LXII. |
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| LXIV. |
 | Love-Sonnets |  |
50
XLII.
[The sweet-souled instrument in silence stands]
The sweet-souled instrument in silence standsAnd yearns for the musician, far apart,
To thaw the music frozen round its heart
With the caress of his miraculous hands.
It dreams of him astray in other lands:
Long silence cannot kill its tones, that start
To life again at once, touched by his art
Who alone feels with it and understands.
So bides my heart in silence (ah too long)
For thee, and will not yield that secret tone
To others which to thee must still belong.
Yet I forget not how the notes should throng,
Thee I forget not dreaming here alone.
Touch me, and I shall blossom into song.
| Love-Sonnets | |