 | Laurella and other poems |  |
219
BEETHOVEN.
Music as of the winds when they awake,Wailing, in the mid forest; music that raves
Like moonless tides about forlorn sea-caves
On desolate shores, where swell weird songs, and break
In peals of demon laughter; chords athirst
With restless anguish of divine desires—
The voice of a vexed soul ere it aspires
With a great cry for light; anon a burst
Of passionate joy—fierce joy of conscious might,
Down-sinking in voluptuous luxury;
Rich harmonies full-pulsed with deep delight,
And melodies dying deliciously
As odorous sighs breathed through the quiet night
By violets. Thus Beethoven speaks for me.
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