Page:General William Booth enters into Heaven, and other poems.djvu/86

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H, she was music in herself, A symphony of joyousness. She sang, she sang from finger tips, From every tremble of her dress. I saw sweet haunting harmony, An ecstasy, an ecstasy, In that strange curling of her lips, That happy curling of her lips. And quivering with melody Those eyes I saw, that tossing head.

And so I saw what music was, Tho' still accursed with ears of lead.