 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
141
MUSIC.
I
When I hear music I am left aloneWith thee, as if the world were but a wood,
And king and queen together we two stood
And occupied in unison a throne,
Glad leaves against close faces blithely blown—
Ah, sweet, the vision—this at least is good!
That ecstasy of music—if it could
Incessant be by hearts enchainèd known!
For all one's soul is turned into a lyre
At such times, and a woman sweeps the strings,
And every nerve becomes a note of fire,
And every strainèd fibre pants and rings
In answer to the subtle touch that stings
Us into one wide flaming of desire;
142
II
We are stretched upon a cross of agony,Enduring death perpetual at her hands
That shudders into life—who understands,
And hath the power to penetrate and see
My meaning, I am strong to say that he
Hath traversed many acres of love's lands;
Our throats are bound in silken stifling bands,
One foot is raised, and yet we dare not flee;
We are indeed the harp itself she slays
From heaven to higher heaven of delight,
She tortures, ever new creates in might,
New fingered in a hundred lissome ways,
The strings o'er which her touch seraphic strays,
Now loosens one, now draws another tight!
| Poems and Sonnets | |