 | Poems |  |
THE TEARFUL CORNET.
To-day, arresting the passers' feet,
A cornet I heard in the hurrying street.
A cornet I heard in the hurrying street.
Common the cornet and man that played it;
What was it so telling and plaintive made it?
What was it so telling and plaintive made it?
I couldn't get from it. What could be its spell?
There was one I knew; that I could but feel well.
There was one I knew; that I could but feel well.
Often I'd heard our Kœnig play,
But never the cornet before to-day.
But never the cornet before to-day.
Strange was its charm, it must be confest;
Whence was its power you'd little have guessed.
Whence was its power you'd little have guessed.
The player was one not worth a rap,
With a broken hat and a coat with no nap.
With a broken hat and a coat with no nap.
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Out at the elbows—with shoes that let
Out, his bare toes and, in, the wet.
Out, his bare toes and, in, the wet.
Wrinkled and old—too aged by half
To be standing for pence amid jeer and laugh:
To be standing for pence amid jeer and laugh:
Though many I saw, to my elbows nigh,
Thought little of laughter, as moved as I.
Thought little of laughter, as moved as I.
What could the cause be that all of us made
Not able to stir while that tune he played.
Not able to stir while that tune he played.
'Twas a common street-air, I shouldn't have lingered,
Except I'd been forced, to hear uttered or fingered.
Except I'd been forced, to hear uttered or fingered.
One—why, a month past each urchin had hummed it,
No organ but ground it—no scraper but strummed it.
No organ but ground it—no scraper but strummed it.
And yet as it swelled now and died through my ears,
My heart, it beat to it and praised it with tears.
My heart, it beat to it and praised it with tears.
You'll think me maudlin; I wasn't a fool
To let that cornet my feelings rule.
To let that cornet my feelings rule.
For the powers that ruled in that cornet's breath
Were not age and want, but misery and death.
Were not age and want, but misery and death.
Away in a dirty lane of the town,
A close court where never the sun comes down,
A close court where never the sun comes down,
Up reeking stairs, if you'll pick your way,
You'll come to a garret, so high, there's day.
You'll come to a garret, so high, there's day.
Neat, to your wonder—cleanly though bare,
Though with half of a table and hardly a chair.
Though with half of a table and hardly a chair.
Though the rusty grate seems little to know
Of coals, and the cupboard no bread can show;
Of coals, and the cupboard no bread can show;
Yet the room is furnished, as better ones are,
In city and country—ay, near and afar.
In city and country—ay, near and afar.
For a silence is there that is hushing your breath,
And throned, on the bed in the corner, is death.
And throned, on the bed in the corner, is death.
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The sunshine seems dim and the day full of awe
As it touches with reverence that old bed of straw,
As it touches with reverence that old bed of straw,
And the withered face on it, and hair thin and gray,
To pay for whose coffin that cornet must play.
To pay for whose coffin that cornet must play.
Yes, to pay dues to death for his aged old wife,
That cornet is suing for pence there to life.
That cornet is suing for pence there to life.
Who wonders—not I—my heart to it beat,
When grief and love played it afar in the street!
When grief and love played it afar in the street!
Who wonders—not I—I never had known
A cornet like that for tears in its tone!
A cornet like that for tears in its tone!
That I felt in its music a terrible sense
Of a something beyond a mere playing for pence!
Of a something beyond a mere playing for pence!
The heart it was played it—the heart it was heard it,
And therefore it was that old wretched breath stirred it.
And therefore it was that old wretched breath stirred it.
God send that few players may play so well
The cornet, such grief and such want to tell!
The cornet, such grief and such want to tell!
That the ears of few passers be startled again
By a cornet that grief plays, a coffin to gain!
By a cornet that grief plays, a coffin to gain!
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