Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/412

384 Even as music is! Not to forget

The viol and the harp, the clarinet,

The booming organ; too, the intertwined

Voices wherewith the sounding, rich clavier,

Struck by the master's hand, enchants the ear—

If so may be to catch a fleeting strain

And in new art imprison it again!

Then let him list to music who would rhyme;

For every art, tho' separate, may learn,

From the great souls in all, how to make burn

Brighter the light of beauty through all time.

And scorn not thou to read of music's power

Over one soul that in great humbleness

His memory brings of many a happy hour,

Hoping these echoed tones some wounded heart may bless.

MUSIC AT TWILIGHT

I

me music in the twilight hour!

Then, skilled musician! thou of the magic power,

Summon the souls of masters long since gone

Who through thine art live on!

As the day dies I would once more respire

The passion of that spirit whose keen fire

Flashes and flames in yearning and unrest

And never-ending quest.

Or listen to the quick, electric tones,

Or moods of majesty, of him who owns

The secret of the thrill that shakes the earth

And moves the stars in mirth