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MUSIC. 181
Is it sound, or fragrance, or vision?
Vocal light wavering down from above? Past prayer and past praise I am floating
Down the rapids of speechless love.
I strove, but the sweet sounds have conquered:
Within me the Past is awake; The Present is grandly transfigured ;
The Future is clear as day-break.
Now Past, Present, Future have mingled
A new sort of Present to make; And my life is all disembodied,
Without time, without space, without break.
But my soul seems floating for ever
In an orb of ravishing sounds, Through faint-falling echoes of heavens
Mid beautiful earths without bounds.
Now sighing, as zephyrs in summer, The concords glide in like a stream,
With a sound that is almost a silence, Or the soundless sounds in a dream.
Then oft, when the music is faintest,
My soul has a storm in its bowers, Like the thunder among the mountains,
Like the wind in the abbey towers. |
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