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16
TO MURIEL, SINGING
I
High the soprano goes,Shrill to the noon,
Yet thy contralto
Makes for the moon.
II
Though in that earthly voiceMelody clear,
In thy unearthly song,
Music more dear.
III
Though she so plainly singsMoving the crowd;
Thou dost a meaning bring,
Low, but not loud.
17
IV
All we have wished to sayThough but in dream;
Dawn and the midnight come
From thee astream.
V
Some may, no doubt, delightIn clearer sound,
Yet in thy note have I
More meaning found.
VI
Wail for a world gone by,Battle and prayer.
Who should express but thou,
Deeply aware?
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