 | Sounds and Sweet Airs |  |
56
To Elodie.
Singing an old English Air.
O sing again, and let the delicate lute
Murmur low chords responsively,
Now hovering round the melody, now mute
For very sympathy!
Sing, as your spirit sings, angelically,
And I shall hear that spirit who sings for ever
In Dreamland's pastoral Age of Gold;
Like Sidney's shepherd in the Arcadian valley
Piping by the clear brooks, as he would never
Cease, or grow old!
Murmur low chords responsively,
Now hovering round the melody, now mute
For very sympathy!
Sing, as your spirit sings, angelically,
And I shall hear that spirit who sings for ever
In Dreamland's pastoral Age of Gold;
Like Sidney's shepherd in the Arcadian valley
Piping by the clear brooks, as he would never
Cease, or grow old!
O voice, of tone so pure, so rare, so sweet,
Tender as moonlight, fresh as dew;
O hovering lute, shy lover at watch to greet
The voice with homage true;
O song, clear draft from the old melodious river
Of melody—bring back those golden hours
When music was an art indeed;
When English homes had passionate hearts to give her,
And men in love with life sowed songs like flowers
O'er life's green mead!
Tender as moonlight, fresh as dew;
57
The voice with homage true;
O song, clear draft from the old melodious river
Of melody—bring back those golden hours
When music was an art indeed;
When English homes had passionate hearts to give her,
And men in love with life sowed songs like flowers
O'er life's green mead!
Sing then, sweet Singer of this later time,
Whose name remembers melody!
Old Ben himself might weep to hear his rime
Carest so daintily:
Weep, not as eyes weep at a tale of sorrow,
But as the heart weeps tears of ecstasy
When something beautiful and rare
Surprises with delight. O, could I borrow
A wreath from him to crown you, it should be
Primroses fair!
Whose name remembers melody!
Old Ben himself might weep to hear his rime
Carest so daintily:
Weep, not as eyes weep at a tale of sorrow,
But as the heart weeps tears of ecstasy
58
Surprises with delight. O, could I borrow
A wreath from him to crown you, it should be
Primroses fair!
| Sounds and Sweet Airs | |