 | Stones from The Quarry |  |
MUSIC IN EXCELSIS.
Has it then ceased? So soft the melodyDies out, that it and Silence scarcely part
Their function; nor can nice-apportioning art
The interval debateable (like sky
And water meeting) clearly certify.
This is the spell of Music; echoes start
To being at its call, and in the heart
The stirred chords vibrate on, long ere they die.
That is the wondrous-subtle instrument,
Of countless stop and string, and compass wide,
On which she playeth to her full intent;
With Poesy, rapt listener, at her side!
Yes! sweet consoling angel, heaven-sent,
Down its true diapáson she doth glide!
| Stones from The Quarry | |