ARE all the songs sung, all the music played?
Are the keys quite worn out, and soundless quite,
Which since sweet fancy’s dawning day have made
Perpetual melody for man’s delight,
And charmed the dull day and the heavy night?
Must we go on with stale, repeated themes,
Content with threadbare chords that faint and fail,
Till all the fairy fabric of old dreams
Becomes a jaded, oft-repeated tale,