In the cool and silent night By the flickering candlelight, When the weary are at rest And sweet Bonn with peace is blest He comes! Sitting at the spinet there, (Ghostly face and waving hair) With imprisoned ecstasy 'Tis the Second Symphony He plays! From those yellowed ivories Rise the rarest memories Of those long-forgotten days, Broken now the spell—it fades ... He goes! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: THE DOLL by EDITH SITWELL THE GARDEN OF LOVE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE A POEM OF SPRING by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS GREAT BRITTAINES SUNNES-SET by WILLIAM BASSE HERITAGE by THERESA VIRGINIA BEARD |