Glide on, go rolling, water-like, at will—
Nay, were thy melody in monotone,
The due three-parts dispensed with!
XI
This alone
Comes of my tiresome talking: Music's throne
Seats somebody whom somebody unseats,
And whom in turn—by who knows what new feats
Of strength—shall somebody as sure push down,
Consign him dispossessed of sceptre, crown,