The Future's Music before you stands,
Time at your elbow is prompt to turn.
'Twill tax the force of your infant hands,
Prodigies even have much to learn.
Mozart, or Hoffmann, or Liszt, of course,
You may turn out in your own new line;
May give us freshly the fire and force
Of Rubinstein.
The hour, young Hopeful, seems something scant
In present promise of Harmony;