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57
MUSIC AND THE WOMAN SOUL
I
All London in dim hurry streamsBeside my door; then why,
Cushioned in comfortable ease,
Is mine this apathy?
II
And flower and plant upon me pall;Palls too the written page;
The soundless and the sumptuous life,
The splendour of the cage.
III
Death may some brilliant lightning flash,Some waking thunder roll;
Till then I waste in cloudless calm,
And starve through all my soul.
58
IV
Only by music am I freed,In melody find wings;
No written word of poetry
The mighty Spaces brings.
V
Then Sirius far behind me lies,The Sun is long outsoared;
The Universe is but a sound,
Creation but a chord!
VI
Here can I find my only flight,Tread where Beethoven trod;
So am I raised, so am I rapt,
And lose myself in God!
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