Thou master! deftly as Nature herself,
Awakes yon sleeping bud in early spring,
E’en neath thy gentler, guileless touch, methinks
A soul opes wide, ’tis Music’s wakening.
Thou, shapen in clay, art by Heav’n moulded,
Thru thee I sense both human and divine,
This, God’s gift, within thyself enfolded,
Pervades the air my spirit breathes of thine.
Bear me afar, beyond majestic portal,
Down loyal Art’s lost corridor of Time,
Human-hearted soul, echo immortal,
Lead thou me inspired by living notes sublime.
HEARTBLOOM
When love is there, one asks not whence he came,
Enough to know the wealth he doth bestow;
A budding heart blossoms, then bursts the same,
Whether in realm of high estate or low.
Crimson the flow’r, touched by the life it gives,
Rooted in works of faith, love ever lives,
Aglow with thrilling warmth of sentiment,
Each soul becomes a fount of sweet content.
The bloom, crushed, turns to Mother Earth once more,
Anew seeketh strength in rising as before;
Tho years of healing help to right the wrong,
A bleeding heart can never beat as strong.