Strikes the impassioned lyre,
Takes into tunèd sound the flaming sight
And ushers with new song the ancient night.
III
How to the singer comes the song?
Bowed down by ill and sorrow
On every morrow—
The unworded pain breaks forth in heavenly singing;
Not all too late dear solace bringing
To broken spirits winging
Through mortal anguish to the unknown rest—
A lyric balm for every wounded breast.
IV
How to the singer comes the song?
How to the summer fields
Come flowers? How yields
Darkness to happy dawn? How doth the night
Bring stars? O, how do love and light
Leap at the sound and sight
Of her who makes this dark world seem less wrong—
Life of his life, and soul of all his song!
"LIKE THE BRIGHT PICTURE"
Like the bright picture ere the lamp is lit,
Or silent page whereon keen notes are writ;
So was my love, all vacant, all unsaid,
Ere she the lamp did light, ere she the music read.
REMEMBRANCE OF BEAUTY
Love's look finds loveliness in all the world:
Ah, who shall say—This, this is loveliest!
