Part 48 (1/2)

Then comes the adagio, with a yielding theme Through which the violas flow soft as in a dream, While horns and mild ba.s.soons are heard In tender tune, that seems to float Like an enchanted boat Upon the downward-gliding stream, Toward the allegro's wide, bright sea Of dancing, glittering, blending tone, Where every instrument is sounding free, And harps like wedding-chimes are rung, and trumpets blown Around the barque of love That rides, with smiling skies above, A royal galley, many-oared, Into the happy harbour of the perfect chord.

IX

IRIS

Light to the eye and Music to the ear,-- These are the builders of the bridge that springs From earth's dim sh.o.r.e of half-remembered things To reach the heavenly sphere Where nothing silent is and nothing dark.

So when I see the rainbow's arc Spanning the showery sky, far-off I hear Music, and every colour sings: And while the symphony builds up its round Full sweep of architectural harmony Above the tide of Time, far, far away I see A bow of colour in the bow of sound.

Red as the dawn the trumpet rings; Blue as the sky, the choir of strings Darkens in double-ba.s.s to ocean's hue, Rises in violins to noon-tide's blue, With threads of quivering light shot through and through; Green as the mantle that the summer flings Around the world, the pastoral reeds in tune Embroider melodies of May and June.

Purer than gold, Yea, thrice-refined gold, And richer than the treasures of the mine, Floods of the human voice divine Along the arch in choral song are rolled.

So bends the bow complete: And radiant rapture flows Across the bridge, so full, so strong, so sweet, That the uplifted spirit hardly knows Whether the Music-Light that glows Within the arch of tones and colours seven, Is sunset-peace of earth or sunrise-joy of Heaven.

X

SEA AND Sh.o.r.e

Music, I yield to thee As swimmer to the sea, I give my spirit to the flood of song!

Bear me upon thy breast In rapture and at rest, Bathe me in pure delight and make me strong; From strife and struggle bring release, And draw the waves of pa.s.sion into tides of peace.

Remembered songs most dear In living songs I hear, While blending voices gently swing and sway, In melodies of love, Whose mighty currents move With singing near and singing far away; Sweet in the glow of morning light, And sweeter still across the starlit gulf of night.

Music, in thee we float, And lose the lonely note Of self in thy celestial-ordered strain, Until at last we find The life to love resigned In harmony of joy restored again; And songs that cheered our mortal days Break on the sh.o.r.e of light in endless hymns of praise.

December, 1901--May, 1903--May, 1916.

MASTER OF MUSIC

(In memory of Theodore Thomas, 1905)

Glory architect, glory of painter, and sculptor, and bard, Living forever in temple and picture and statue and song,-- Look how the world with the lights that they lit is illumined and starred; Brief was the flame of their life, but the lamps of their art burn long!

Where is the Master of Music, and how has he vanished away?

Where is the work that he wrought with his wonderful art in the air?

Gone,--it is gone like the glow on the cloud at the close of the day!

The Master has finished his work and the glory of music is--where?

Once, at the wave of his wand, all the billows of musical sound Followed his will, as the sea was ruled by the prophet of old: Now that his hand is relaxed, and his rod has dropped to the ground, Silent and dark are the sh.o.r.es where the marvellous harmonies rolled!

Nay, but not silent the hearts that were filled by that life-giving sea; Deeper and purer forever the tides of their being will roll, Grateful and joyful, O Master, because they have listened to thee; The glory of music endures in the depths of the human soul.

THE PIPES O' PAN