He thanked me for my kindness, disagreed
With my conclusions in a modest way
(He's modest, that 't is only just to say);
But in a letter that he sends to-day
Here is his answer. Listen, while I read.
" Most noble sir, " — and so on, and so on, —
" A thousand thanks, " — hem — hem, — " in one so high, "
" Learned in art, " — et cetera, — " I shall try " —
Oh! that's about his picture, — " critic's eye; "
" Patron, " — pho, pho — where has the passage gone?
Ah! here we come to it at last: " You thought, "
He says, " that in too many arts I wrought;
And you advised me to stick close to one.
Thanks for your gracious counsel, all too kind;
And answering, if I chance to speak my mind
Too boldly, pardon. Yet it seems to me
All arts are one, — all branches on one tree;
All fingers, as it were, upon one hand.
You ask me to be thumb alone; but pray,
Reft of the answering fingers Nature planned,
Is not the hand deformed for work or play?
Or rather take, to illustrate my thought,
Music, the only art to science wrought,
The ideal art, that underlies the whole,
Interprets all, and is of all the soul.
Each art is, so to speak, a separate tone;
The perfect chord results from all in one.
Strike one, and as its last vibrations die,
Listen, — from all the other tones a cry
Wails forth, half-longing and half-prophecy.
So does the complement, the hint, the germ
Of every art within the others lie,
And in their inner essence all unite;
For what is melody but fluid form,
Or form, but fixed and stationed melody?
Colours are but the silent chords of light,
Touched by the painter into tone and key,
And harmonized in every changeful hue.
So colours live in sound, — the trumpet blows
Its scarlet, and the flute its tender blue;
The perfect statue, in its pale repose,
Has for the soul a melody divine,
That lingers dreaming round each subtle line,
And stills the gazer lest its charm he lose.
So rhythmic words, strung by the poet, own
Music and form and colour — every sense
Rhymes with the rest; — 't is in the means alone
The various arts receive their difference. "
With my conclusions in a modest way
(He's modest, that 't is only just to say);
But in a letter that he sends to-day
Here is his answer. Listen, while I read.
" Most noble sir, " — and so on, and so on, —
" A thousand thanks, " — hem — hem, — " in one so high, "
" Learned in art, " — et cetera, — " I shall try " —
Oh! that's about his picture, — " critic's eye; "
" Patron, " — pho, pho — where has the passage gone?
Ah! here we come to it at last: " You thought, "
He says, " that in too many arts I wrought;
And you advised me to stick close to one.
Thanks for your gracious counsel, all too kind;
And answering, if I chance to speak my mind
Too boldly, pardon. Yet it seems to me
All arts are one, — all branches on one tree;
All fingers, as it were, upon one hand.
You ask me to be thumb alone; but pray,
Reft of the answering fingers Nature planned,
Is not the hand deformed for work or play?
Or rather take, to illustrate my thought,
Music, the only art to science wrought,
The ideal art, that underlies the whole,
Interprets all, and is of all the soul.
Each art is, so to speak, a separate tone;
The perfect chord results from all in one.
Strike one, and as its last vibrations die,
Listen, — from all the other tones a cry
Wails forth, half-longing and half-prophecy.
So does the complement, the hint, the germ
Of every art within the others lie,
And in their inner essence all unite;
For what is melody but fluid form,
Or form, but fixed and stationed melody?
Colours are but the silent chords of light,
Touched by the painter into tone and key,
And harmonized in every changeful hue.
So colours live in sound, — the trumpet blows
Its scarlet, and the flute its tender blue;
The perfect statue, in its pale repose,
Has for the soul a melody divine,
That lingers dreaming round each subtle line,
And stills the gazer lest its charm he lose.
So rhythmic words, strung by the poet, own
Music and form and colour — every sense
Rhymes with the rest; — 't is in the means alone
The various arts receive their difference. "