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A BROKEN LUTE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: I am the thing round which the aureole
Last Line: One with the whole, one with the infinite!
Subject(s): Lutes; Usefullness


I AM the thing round which the aureole
Of music hung, now like an empty bowl,
Reft of the living wine that was its soul!

Lo, I am as the rose that once was red,
Its fragrance gone, its glowing petals shed;
I am the body with the spirit fled!

And yet about me like an unseen flame
That raptured mystic worshipers acclaim,
Hovers a melody that none may name,

Impalpable save to anointed ears;
Yet he who hath true divination hears
Harmonies chorded with the swinging spheres;

For naught of loveliness can vanish quite,
But lingers near us, be it sound or sight,
One with the whole, one with the infinite!





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