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LINES TO A VASE.
Thou art a dainty dream
Of Eastern art,
To make a sorrow seem
Of joy a part.
Within thy graceful curves
What hopes were urned!—
The ashes of lost loves
Once passioned-burned.
'Tis thus the Poet's heart
Entombs desire,
And seals from life apart
Promethean fire.
Behind his well-turned phrase,
His studied lines,
Hidden as in a vase
His soul's soul pines.
MUSIC.
Music's first anthem was the song the stars
Chanted together when God said "Amen"
To the earth s morning loveliness. It jars
All sentience to its depths now, even as then.
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