Three Sonnets (Instrumental Music, Beethoven, Mozart)
| INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. |
| The charms of melody, in simple airs, |
| By human voices sung, are always felt; |
| With thoughts responsive, careless hearers melt, |
| Of secret ills, which our frail nature bears. |
| We listen, weep, forget. But when the throng |
| Of a great Master’s thoughts, above the reach |
| Of words or colors, wire and wood can teach |
| By laws which to the spirit-world belong,— |
| When several parts, to tell one mood combined, |
| Flash meaning on us we can ne’er express, |
| Giving to matter subtlest powers of Mind, |
| Superior joys attentive souls confess. |
| The harmony which suns and stars obey, |
| Blesses our earth-bound state with visions of supernal day. |
| BEETHOVEN. |
| Most intellectual master of the art, |
| Which, best of all, teaches the mind of man |
| The universe in all its varied plan,— |
| What strangely mingled thoughts thy strains impart! |
| Here the faint tenor thrills the inmost heart, |
| There the rich bass the Reason’s balance shows; |
| Here breathes the softest sigh that Love e’er knows; |
| There sudden fancies, seeming without chart, |
| Float into wildest breezy interludes; |
| The past is all forgot,—hopes sweetly breathe, |
| And our whole being glows,—when lo! beneath |
| The flowery brink, Despair’s deep sob concludes! |
| Startled, we strive to free us from the chain,— |
| Notes of high triumph swell, and we are thine again! |
| MOZART. |
| If to the intellect and passions strong |
| Beethoven speak, with such resistless power, |
| Making us share the full creative hour, |
| When his wand fixed wild Fancy’s mystic throng, |
| Oh nature’s finest lyre! to thee belong |
| The deepest, softest tones of tenderness, |
| Whose purity the listening angels bless, |
| With silvery clearness of seraphic song. |
| Sad are those chords, oh, heavenward striving soul! |
| A love, which never found its home on earth, |
| Pensively vibrates, even in thy mirth, |
| And gentle laws thy lightest notes control; |
| Yet dear that sadness! Spheral concords felt |
| Purify most those hearts which most they melt. |
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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