Belov'd of all to whom that Muse is dear Who hid her spirit of rapture from the Greek, Whereby our art excelleth the antique, Perfecting formal beauty to the ear; Thou that hast been in England many a year The interpreter who left us nought to seek, Making Beethoven's inmost passion speak, Bringing the soul of great Sebastian near. Their music liveth ever, and 'tis just That thou, good Joachim, so high thy skill, Rank (as thou shalt upon the heavenly hill) Laurel'd with them, for thy ennobling trust Remember'd when thy loving hand is still And every ear that heard thee stopt with dust. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONE WAY OF LOVE by ROBERT BROWNING THE SONG OF THE SMOKE by WILLIAM EDWARD BURGHARDT DU BOIS ADLESTROP by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS A VISION OF CHILDREN by THOMAS ASHE PORTRAIT IN THE HORIZONTAL by RUTH FITCH BARTLETT |