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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A PICTURE, by EDWARD BLISS REED
First Line: On spinet old [or, harpsichord], clarissa plays
Last Line: Clarissa plays.
Subject(s): Play
First Line: On spinet old [or, harpsichord], clarissa plays
Last Line: Clarissa plays.
Subject(s): Play
ON spinet old, Clarissa plays
The melodies of by-gone days.
Forgotten fugue, a solemn tune,
The bars of stately rigadoon.
With head bent down to scan each note,
A crimson ribbon round her throat,
The very birds to sing forget
As some old-fashioned minuet
Clarissa plays.
King George long since has passed away,
And minuets have had their day.
Within a hidden attic nook
Covered with dust, her music-book.
Gone are the keys her fingers pressed,
The bunch of roses at her breast.
But still, unmindful of time's flight,
With face so fair and hands so white,
Clarissa plays.
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