Laurella And Other Poems

ather-Rhine, And the wailful coming and going Of wind through the aisles of pine. We sat in the dusk and pondered, Each lone with his lonely heart, Ah ! when shall we meet, we wondered, We three, whom to-night must part ? At last when between the pine-trees The moon rose large and red, Up started Fritz from his musing, But never a word he said, Never a word; but sighing He past to his room within, And a voice rang clear through the twilight, The voice of his violin. We knew it well:?it had thrilled us A thousand times or more; But now ! what fine transport filled us ? It never spake thus before ! It came like a revelation, That shrill, small, passionate voice, Sublimed in its exaltation, Wild woes?ineffable joys. Keen bliss ran shuddering through us, And anguish of deep delight, On wings of the great Tone-Angel Our spirits were rapt that night. No awful beauty of dawning, No tender freshness of morn, No solemn glory of sunset, No sweetness of stars new-born, Nor grandeur of calm-crowned mountains, Nor river's majestic flow, Nor balmy sadness of pine-woods, Recall that adagio ! It rose, as a quaint arch rises, In curves of delicate strength ; In languor of sweet surprises It sighed itself out at length. And then for one golden moment The silence alone we heard, And tranced in that blissful moment, We neither spoke nor stirred. Anon, like a sudden tempest ... --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.