Thou didst intone the wonder-chords which made Despair a science.

Yea, thou didst strike so grand a note that, in its large vibration,

It seemed the roaring of the sea in nature's jubilation.

X.

O Sire of Song! Sonata-King! Sublime and loving master;

The sweetest soul that ever struck an octave in disaster;

In thee were found the fires of thought—the splendours of endeavour,—

And thou shalt sway the minds of men for ever and for ever!


A RHAPSODY OF DEATH.