26.12.2010, 12:24
The foot of Time so soundless never pass'd
As when sweet fancy wove her magic thralls —
Go, mourner, to the Muses, haste thee, haste.
And bring thy griefs where Peter's shadow falls
To heal thee in his passing : call for aid
Of joy, that quenches being and its gall —
Sad ! that the consciousness of Life must fade
Before the bliss it yields be felt at all :
"We cannot sit, inertly calm'd, to hear
The silence broken by the step of life;
We must have music while we languish here,
Loud music, to annul our spirit's strife.
To make the soul with pleasant fancies rife.
And soothe the stranger from another sphere !
As when sweet fancy wove her magic thralls —
Go, mourner, to the Muses, haste thee, haste.
And bring thy griefs where Peter's shadow falls
To heal thee in his passing : call for aid
Of joy, that quenches being and its gall —
Sad ! that the consciousness of Life must fade
Before the bliss it yields be felt at all :
"We cannot sit, inertly calm'd, to hear
The silence broken by the step of life;
We must have music while we languish here,
Loud music, to annul our spirit's strife.
To make the soul with pleasant fancies rife.
And soothe the stranger from another sphere !