IV
No music but the changeless sigh—
That murmur of their own,
That loves not blending in the thrill
Of thine aerial tone.
V
The girl that slumbers at our side
Will dream how they are bent,
That love her even as they love
Thy blessed instrument.
VI
And music, like a flood, will break
Upon the fairy throne
Of her pure heart, all glowing, like
A morning star, alone!
VII
Alone, but for the song of him
That waketh by her side,
And strikes thy chords of silver to
His fair and sea-borne bride.
VIII
Jewel! that hung before the heart
Of some romantic boy;
Like him, I sweep thee with a storm
Of music and of joy!