Those Soft Airs She Played.
TO M. B. S.
THOSE soft airs she played—through my mem’ry they glide
Like a cloud-shadow crossing the plain;
The sun follows often, the wind at his side,
Then a whisper that never the roses denied,
And a sound like a light fall of rain.
Grander music she plays—music weird and sublime,
Thunder toned, like the sound of the sea,