AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED TO E. J. EXPERIENCE, like a pale musician, holds A dulcimer of patience in his hand, Whence harmonies, we cannot understand, Of God's will in his worlds, the strain unfolds In sad-perplexed minors: deathly colds Fall on us while we hear, and countermand Our sanguine heart back from the fancy-land With nightingales in visionary wolds. We murmur 'Where is any certain tune Or measured music in such notes as these?' But angels, leaning from the golden seat, Are not so minded; their fine ear hath won The issue of completed cadences, And, smiling down the stars, they whisper -- SWEET. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HAPPY LIFE by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS FOR THE BED AT KELMSCOTT by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) I SAW THREE SHIPS by MOTHER GOOSE THE DUG-OUT by SIEGFRIED SASSOON TO THE DAISY (2) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |