That sound its deepest secrets should unfold,
Had found his instrument by evil hand
Exchanged for one of meaner, coarser mould.
Yet, like the clashing tongue of vibrant bells,
The hindrance but a greater power revealed.
“See, I will show thee that the music dwells
In me, and not the instrument I wield.”
He turns, and sweetly, grandly, at his call,
The violin its richest music flings.
The instrument is naught—the player all—