AT THE SYMPHONY
THE lights grow dim. There comes a hush.Then swiftly in a mighty rushAs of great waters, over meBreak the slow surges of the symphony.With a vast sweep majesticalLike emerald waves that topling fallIn foam, far off and faint beginsThe swelling beauty of the violins.Silence. On some far beach I’ve heardThe high sweet keening of a bird.Now all the instruments are muteBut the rich music of a lonely flute.Once more the wave is poised to break,Once more the wind-swept water shakeMy soul; and in this harmonyI know the splendour of the trampling sea.
THE lights grow dim. There comes a hush.Then swiftly in a mighty rushAs of great waters, over meBreak the slow surges of the symphony.With a vast sweep majesticalLike emerald waves that topling fallIn foam, far off and faint beginsThe swelling beauty of the violins.Silence. On some far beach I’ve heardThe high sweet keening of a bird.Now all the instruments are muteBut the rich music of a lonely flute.Once more the wave is poised to break,Once more the wind-swept water shakeMy soul; and in this harmonyI know the splendour of the trampling sea.
THE lights grow dim. There comes a hush.Then swiftly in a mighty rushAs of great waters, over meBreak the slow surges of the symphony.
With a vast sweep majesticalLike emerald waves that topling fallIn foam, far off and faint beginsThe swelling beauty of the violins.
Silence. On some far beach I’ve heardThe high sweet keening of a bird.Now all the instruments are muteBut the rich music of a lonely flute.
Once more the wave is poised to break,Once more the wind-swept water shakeMy soul; and in this harmonyI know the splendour of the trampling sea.