LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC. 157
TWO SONNETS
ON HEARING THE MUSIC OF BRAHMS AND
TSCHAIKOWSKY.
To C. G. LAMB.
Y soul is aching with the sense of sound
Whose angels trumpet in the angry air;
Wild mznads with their fiery snakes enwound
In the black waves of my abundant hair.
Now hath my life a little respite found
In the brief pauses exquisite and rare;
In the strong chain of music I am bound
And all myself before myself lies bare.
Drown me, oh, drown me in your fiery stream!
Wing me new visions, fierce enchanting birds !
Peace is less dear than this delirious fight!
For all the glowing fragrance of a dream
And all the sudden ecstasy of words
Deluge my spirit with a lake of light.