INSCRIPTION
(For the Grave of Coleridge-Taylor)
| SLEEP, crowned with fame; fearless of change or time. Sleep, like remembered music in the soul, Silent, immortal; while our discords climb To that great chord which shall resolve the whole. Silent with Mozart on that solemn shore; Secure where neither waves nor hearts can break; Sleep—till the Master of the World, once more, Touch the remembered strings, and bid thee wake.... Touch the remembered strings, and bid thee wake. |