In the hour of vesper
I change the key!
I cry on Apollo to aid, I lift up my lyre on the sea.
Thou reaper of fear,
Accurst of mankind,
I charge thee to hear,
Deaf horror deep-mined
In hell! O uprear
- On the front of the wind !
I curse thee! Thou hearest my hounds of thunder that
mutter behind ?
How strange is the dark
And the silence around !
Hardly the spark
Of my silvery sound
Moves, or may mark
The heaven’s dim bound.
How strange! I have sought him in vain—perchance
not in vain have I found!
No! Life thrills in me;
Vibrates on the lyre;
The Fates still spin me
Their thread of desire :
Still, woo and win me
Soft eyes, and the dire
Low fervour of sensual phrase, song kin to the nether-
most fire!
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